Amaranth
by Fire In The Black Rose
Summary: Full Summary Inside - 7th year at Hogwarts, the trio must learn to accept their destinies as the Dark Lord rises and the inevitable war draws near. Draco runs from the destiny he refuses to accept until an old enemy throws him into the conflict.DM/HG
1. Mother Earth

Title: Amaranth

Full Summary: AU/AR – In their seventh year of Hogwarts, the trio must come to terms with their destinies, and with the sacrifices it takes to achieve their common goal. As the Dark Lord bides his time, coming to power slowly, the inevitable war comes closer and closer. While Draco Malfoy runs from the destiny he refuses to accept, he tries to survive his father's abuse until he is free. Fate has a different plan for the young wizard as he is thrown into the resistance against his will by one of his biggest enemies. The Wizarding world hangs in the balance, but will good conquer evil? D/Hr.

**Please Read:**

I wrote this story, originally, in 2003 between the publication of Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. As I want the story to be close to the original idea I had, it is now considered to be Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality. I'm updating the story, however, with information that we now have from the last two books and I'm updating it with the maturity as a writer I have gained in the years following my original attempt. I will state now, that all of the *major* events of OotP, IE Dumbledore's Army and Sirius's death have occurred. However, the events of HBP have not occurred…meaning Dumbledore is still very much alive and Harry does not yet know of Horcruxes. Many of the events of HBP and DH will occur in this story, but in my very modified way. I have confidence that this will be a great story and I have nothing but pride from the parts I have already written. I ask that you give it a chance and please let me know how it can be improved. I'm old enough to handle both praise and criticism. Thank you.

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter One

"Mother Earth"

He bit his tongue to keep from crying out in pain. He was used to it, and quite surprised he didn't have half of his tongue missing. He could feel the belt being beaten into his back. **BAM! BAM! BAM!** The repeated beats were merciless, as was the one administering it. He could just see the blank watery steel eyes, almost the same eyes he had. They would be filled with malice, hatred and loathing . . . yet blank, blank because he had no free will left in him. He was a full servant, and he groveled to his master constantly. Of course, if he were lucky…it would only be the belt tonight. Each single crack of the belt dug deeper and deeper into his skin. The young man with short blonde hair and a sharp, gaunt face closed his eyes and let himself feel the pain. It may sound strange, but each sudden rush of that dull pain was a reminder that he was still alive. He was still human, able to feel. He hadn't given up his free will yet, he was still his own master.

The young man's grey eyes slid around the room, counting the furniture. Then he counted the candles flickering on the walls…then his eyes slid to the fireplace. Everything in its place, everything just as it always was in his father's study. His gaze drifted down to the rug, he counted the number of strings of fringe on the sides, one hundred and thirteen, same as yesterday.

The young man, Draco Malfoy as it were, heard the belt clatter to the floor. He tensed, unsure if his father was finished. After all, there were other, worse ways of making him hurt. There were magical ways. Draco waited for a minute before straightening himself up. He stole a glance at his father he was learning against his desk, breathing heavy, as though he were thoroughly spent. Still, Draco knew that if he moved too quickly, drew too much attention to himself…he would suffer the pain of the cruciatus curse. Draco felt a tickle down his back and he realized he was bleeding, he quickly inferred that that was his father's motive for stopping. Many times his father was unable to stand sight of Draco's blood dribbling down his back. Other times, it seemed to excite him more and the beatings became more severe.

Beating Draco had seemingly become one of Lucius' favorite pastimes. Draco knew that his father was also a sexual deviant, as his room was unlucky enough to be directly above his father's study. He wasn't sure how many mistresses the man had, but Draco knew from walking in on his father too many times as a child, that his father's sexual tastes ran towards the dark. Draco knew him to be a sexual man, a powerful man and knew from personal experience that when the two combine together, it often makes for a chilling combination. He was a man obsessed with power, obsessed with possessing and obsessed with blood.

It was no secret to the wizarding world that Lucius Malfoy's loyalties sided with Voldemort. His father believed with his whole being that muggles were inferior to wizards in every way. He thought squibs should all be exterminated as shameful, freakish spawn of unworthy wizards. In his mind, however, the worst offenders were mudbloods. The dirty blooded, disgusting magical spawn from muggles, descended from squibs. Unnatural, he believed.

Draco had often mused that his father was no better than the wonder trio. They were all just trying to impress their master, with Lucius it was Voldemort and with the wonder trio it was Dumbledore. Draco would have no master. He hated them all, but especially those three, perfect Potter, his sidekick Weasel and of course the Mudblood Granger. While Draco didn't put as much faith into blood superiority as his father, certain habits had become ingrained in Draco, one of them being the hatred of the muggle born. Despite his hatred of them, and his belief that pure blood could only mean a more powerful wizard he was still intrigued by Granger. She was obviously clever, having had the last six years of classes with her. He begrudgingly admitted that she was probably the exception to the rule. It was her social ties that truly puzzled him, however. She was not like Potter and Weasel, she was academically motivated, she followed rules and school policies to a 'T' and from what Draco had heard, she was shoo-in for Head Girl. Draco did respect her, though he would only tell someone that under pain of the cruciatus curse. Despite this, he still disliked her…perhaps even hated her. She was insufferable for the past six years, always right, always sucking up and always surrounded by her two faithful body guards.

The beating was most assuredly done, as his father had not taken his wand out yet. Draco turned on his heel, meeting his father's empty steel gaze. Since the Dark Lord returned, his father's eyes had taken on a vacant stare, as though Voldemort had taken his thoughts straight from his head. His father muttered something about how this'll teach him a lesson of character and loyalties. Draco didn't care; he couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

He left his father's study without a word to him, his back still dribbling blood.

He entered his room and sighed. He walked over to the bed and sat down upon it. This was his final year at Hogwarts; he was Head Boy and confident that he would successfully be able to disappear off of the face of the planet after graduation. His plan already in place, he would go into hiding. He would hide somewhere where they had never heard of magic. Places where no wizard would ever think to look for him. His 'Plan B' was a modification on the fidelius charm that he had been working on, one that allowed the caster to be their own secret keeper. He wasn't very good at inventing spells, but if he could perfect it, his troubles would be over. Then, no one would ever see him again; he could live his life the way that he wanted to live it. No more Lucius telling him to worship Voldemort, no more Dumbledore urging him to choose the path of light. It would all finally end.

***

The chattering bustles of students buying their Hogwarts supplies was definitely a sight to behold. Over the chatter one could barely hear themselves think. Students milling about, in and out of stores, seeing old friends and enemies, their arms and hands weighted down with their purchases. Not many of the residents near Diagon Alley came into it when it was time for Hogwarts students to buy their things; they were too smart for that.

Hermione sat at Florean Fortescue's looking over her summer homework. She had always enjoyed sitting out in one of many Fortescue's outside tables, one could always see people coming and going. She was waiting for Ron and Harry to show up. They had obviously stopped by Quality Quidditch Supplies, because it certainly would not take them three hours to get to Fortescue's. With her quill in one hand, a bottle of red ink sitting on the table, she began to make corrections on her paper for the fifth time. It had to be perfect; she was Head Girl and expected to get top marks in all of her classes. Besides, her focus on academics would be a welcome distraction to the reality she was facing as one of Harry Potter's best friends.

As Hermione made a few grammatical changes on her History of Magic paper a cold chill befell upon her. It was as though the outside temperature had dropped a few degrees. Hermione's head snapped up, her quick reflexes taking over. She dropped her quill and her hand was fingering her wand in no time flat. Her mind raced with possibilities. Her head whipped around to see Draco Malfoy. He had entered the alley and was looking around. Her eyes studied him for a moment; he was walking with a slight limp and his eyes were wincing with pain though as always, his face was set in that trademark Malfoy sneer. Hermione mentally shot a few nasty hexes his way but still couldn't help but be curious as to his injuries. She picked up her quill and returned to work after he had disappeared into a store.

Harry and Ron came bounding to where Hermione was sitting a moment later; they were grinning ear to ear and carrying QQS bags. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at her friends, they were so predictable. To avoid mishaps, Hermione quickly bottled her red ink, and took her parchments off of the table; she did not want any of Ron's clumsiness to result in her having to do an entire summer's homework again. The two boys smiled at her and started to tell her all about their purchases. She still, after six full years at Hogwarts had trouble understanding the game…but knew enough to follow along at matches. She could only offer them an encourage smile and tell them how lovely their purchase seemed to her. She knew it was all they wanted anyway.

When they were done with their babble about quidditch, they decided to go and get their books together. Hermione once again needed more as she was taking at least three more classes than Ron and Harry.

Harry pulled her aside to speak with her while Ron continued obliviously ahead.

"I've already told Ron, but I wanted to tell you that after we're done shopping, Dumbledore's meeting me. He's taking me somewhere to hide for the rest of the summer, not sure where. I'll try to get a letter to you if I can."

Hermione could only nod. She gripped his arm and gave it a squeeze, worrying for the first time all day that this could potentially be the last time would be near him before he died. She knew that Harry would want her to push that thought from her brain. Hermione, ever determined to be the best friend she could possibly be, knew that Harry would want things to remain as normal as possible while he was out. He hated the fuss that came with being The Boy Who Lived and The Chosen One, so Hermione and Ron had promised him to never treat him as anything but, Harry…their friend.

They walked into Flourish and Blotts Hermione's eyes got a far away gaze to them, as it always did when she entered a bookstore. She ignored the looks being passed between Harry and Ron. Ever since Hermione was very little she had loved books. She often sneaked down to her father's personal library to look at the books. It also helped that her father read her muggle classics before Hermione learned how to herself. She had grown up listening to her father's voice reciting Charlotte Brontë, Emily Brontë, Daniel Defoe, Jules Verne and many of the likes.

Thinking of her father brought pangs of pain to Hermione.

It was Christmas; Hermione had just finished with the first half of her fifth year. She had decided to spend Christmas at school, wanting to keep Harry company, Ron had gone home to the Burrow. On Dumbledore's orders, Harry was not to leave the school grounds. On Christmas morning she received a large, heavy parcel via owl in the Great Hall. Thinking it was a late present from someone, she furiously and happily ripped open the package.

Inside the parcel were the severed heads of her mother and father.

Upon closer examination it was revealed that her parents' foreheads had been stamped with a non-magical form of the dark mark. Hermione knew that they were killed because of his association with Harry. Despite her deep, emotional pain…logically she found herself able to compartmentalize, able to logically state that her parents' deaths would be two to prevent the deaths of all. She threw herself into her studies, determined to find someway to help Harry defeat Voldemort. Despite this though, Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty over the fact that she was not there.

Harry and Ron followed Hermione around the store while she carefully picked up their textbooks and handed them to the boys. She picked up a divination textbook and clicked her tongue in disapproval. Ron grinned at her disapproval. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to book shopping. She finished with the boys first and they waved to her as they walked to the purchase counter. She walked through the books, sighing happily as she felt she was at home again. She picked up her textbooks for next year and continued to leaf through the various books, hoping she could gain more knowledge. She passed books on several subjects, care of magical creatures, history of magic, medical magic; while these were important pasts to her education they were not her favorite subjects. She much preferred potions, charms and transfiguration. Picking up a new book on each of those subjects she walked to the purchase counter. She handed the galleons, sickles and knuts to the plump witch working behind the counter. She walked outside with her bags weighing her down heavily with books. Seeing Harry and Ron waving to her she walked over to join them.

"Oi, Hermione you got enough books in there to last you the rest of your life"

"Well, unlike you Ronald Weasley I have a plan for my future."

"Oh yeah? Planning on becoming a librarian? Because you could start a new library with all of those"

Hermione glared at Ron and stalked away, he could be such a git.

"Trouble in paradise?" a silky voice drawled, Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Leave me alone Malfoy"

"Ohh, poor Granger. Weasel unable to give you what you need?" with that, Draco gave a crude, sexual hand gesture.

"Go to hell Malfoy!"

"Touched a nerve I see mudblood"

"Malfoy, leave her alone"

Hermione and Draco looked behind her to see Harry and Ron, their wands pointed at Draco. Ron looked livid and Harry had a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Now, now Potter, you wouldn't want to deprive me the pleasure of talking to the mudblood bitch now would you?" Draco drawled

**BAM!**

Draco saw stars for a moment; he fell to the ground and expected to see Weasel standing over him when he saw Hermione, her hand clenched into a fist. Draco couldn't believe it; the mudblood had hit him, and hit him hard too. Still, he couldn't control, his first thought 'damn, Granger's got a mean right hook.' Draco jumped to his feet.

"You'll pay for that mudblood, remember your body guards won't be around you all the time . . . just like you and your parents" he hissed

At that last comment Hermione's eyes pricked with tears. When his back turned, they started to flow down her cheeks. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and she hugged the first one she could get her hands on, this time it had been Ron. With her head buried in his chest and her fists clenching his robes Ron looked unsure. He looked over to Harry, who motioned that he should put his arms around her. When he did he was surprised to see how good it felt to hold her, just like he had imagined.

***

The god damned perfect little mudblood had the audacity to hit him. Oh he would get her back for that. He may not be loyal to the Dark Lord but he wouldn't hesitate to hand her over to him. He needed a drink.

Turning down to Knockturn Alley, Malfoy stepped into The Dark Cauldron, the local pub. He had always assumed the name to be a play on 'The Leaky Cauldron', but was never sure. He sat at the bar and ordered a glass of Ogden's Old.

The barkeep nodded and served the drink, as he was putting the glass on the counter, he made sure Draco got a glimpse of his dark mark. It looked like a horrible burn; the kind of burn that left skin black mixed with a muggle tattoo. It clashed horrible against the man's yellow skin. Draco eyed the man with an air of distaste. Not only was his drink being served by a Death Eater with no qualms about showing his mark, but the glass he was being served was absolutely filthy. Still, Draco accepted the drink from him.

Seeing The Mark on the man's arm flashed his mind back to his morning. What a terrible morning it had been. He had risen early, as always, to avoid his father. Only to discover, upon descending the stairs and heading for the kitchen, that his father hadn't gone to bed yet. Lucius had been in the hallway with one of his women, shagging her up against the wall. Draco didn't see them before it was too late. The woman, who he recognized as a Ministry of Magic employee made a startled noise upon seeing Draco. Lucius whirled around to see his son and cried with bloodthirsty rage. He used his trademark walking stick to incapacitate Draco by hitting him in the leg with it. He had been subject to the cruciatus curse and Draco had been beaten until he passed out. When he woke up, he discovered it was past noon. He left the house, deciding to buy his school books, though he would have used any reason to get away from his father.

He sat for a moment, nursing his drink while contemplating what had just transpired. Draco knew that bringing up Granger's parents was a low blow, and he truly did not wish to have sunk to such a low level. His morning had left him in sour mood, and seeing the Dream Team had made his anger boil over. He took it out on Granger who he knew was the easiest and most intriguing target. He tried to quash the little pangs of guilt he felt with each swallow of the whiskey. Still, his pride was hurt from being hit and he felt the need for revenge, which he hoped would also squash his guilty feelings out of his heart.

***

Because of her parent's death, Hermione had spent the last two summers and Christmas at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had to stay with the Dursley's and could not offer Hermione company, but Ron had felt particularly upset that Hermione was spending her time off from school in an inn. He had invited her a hundred times to come and spend her time at the burrow. When she finally accepted his offer, he was overjoyed. His older brothers had taken to teasing him about it, but Ron didn't care.

On the day that she was due to arrive, Ron paced the living room like mad. His eyes glanced upwards at the photo of his deceased parents, wishing that they could be here to see her. He still felt a sharp pain in his heart when he thought of them, he supposed he always would.

_Asleep in his bed, Ron was perfectly content with the fuzzy dreams he was having. He was awoken with a crash and scream. Confused and decidedly worried he padded downstairs in his slippers. As he rounded the corner to go into the living room he saw his mother lying on the floor in a sobbing heap. His eyes followed her to his brother standing around something. He fully entered the room to see his father; Arthur had been hung from the ceiling, his neck broken. His father was hung right over the Christmas tree, a star taped onto his head, which was hanging limply. His forehead had been printed with the dark mark. Behind him, on the wall were the words 'Blood Traitor' written, presumably, in blood. Ron heard a low moan, like a ghoul, only to realize that it was him. His eyes were pricked with tears, but he was too shocked to cry at first. Ron could hear a soft voice call out, _

_"What's going on Ron?" _

_'Ginny'_

_Ron grabbed his sister's shoulders and tried to get her to go into her room. _

_"No, Ginny don't go down there" _

_As Ginny was every bit as stubborn as the rest of her family she broke free of her brother and ran to the living room. Her screams could be heard all through the house. _

_Charlie stood and walked over to his sister, while Ron took his place at his mother's side. Charlie wrapped a protective arm around her and tried to stop her screams. Ron hugged his sobbing mother and silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Bill stood and walked over to a wall. In a fit of rage he punched it, leaving a massive hole in it. Fred and George walked over to their brother and helped him pull his hand out of the wall. Percy looked up at his father and Ron could see tears flowing freely down his freckled cheeks. Percy calmly stood up and walked to the fireplace. He took a handful of floo threw it into the fire and called Dumbledore. Molly was never the same again._

Molly Weasley died right after her husband's funeral.

_A week after her husband's funeral, Molly Weasley was starting to get along with her life. Ron and Ginny were allowed a special trip from Hogwarts to come and visit their mother and brothers. As they were eating dinner, there was a crash outside. The young men jumped to their feet, pulling their wands to the ready. _

_A chilling laughter filled his ears, one that he knew all too well. A woman appeared in the doorway, her wild black hair waving about her. Her black eyes carried a dangerous glint. She was beautiful and yet, her face was gaunt and drawn, her skin stretched as tight as a drum across her face. _

_It was Bellatrix Lestrange. _

_Behind her, Ron recognized the faces of Rodolphus and Rebastan Lestrange, Avery and Augustus Rookwood. Charlie and Bill, being the oldest and the fastest fired off a stunner spell, but not before Bellatrix, being the best dueler of the group had fired off a shield spell. She laughed maniacally, and the duel began. _

_Spells were fired left and right, but no Death Eater had cast the Killing Curse. Slowly, the Weasley's fell. Charlie had been stunned, Bill disarmed. Percy had been subject to the cruciatus curse and he was left writhing in the ground in pain even after the spell had stopped. Molly Weasley, seeing her children fall in pain went wild. She took her wand and cried out for them to leave her children alone. As she raised her wand, Bellatrix laughed. She flicked her wand at the older woman as green light emitted from its tip. _

_Molly Weasley fell to the floor, dead. _

_Her black eyes focused on Ron, "Crucio!" she cried._

_Ron fell to the floor, screaming in abject pain. He felt as though every nerve in his body was firing. He felt thousands of needles prick his skin and his intestines twist up. _

_Bellatrix leaned over him and took his face in her hands. She looked into his eyes and whispered sweetly, "if you don't hand over Harry Potter, we'll kill your brothers…one by one. Then, we'll kill your sister and your mudblood," she pushed him to the ground. _

_She stepped delicately over Molly's body, turned and then spit on her corpse muttering, "Filthy blood traitor"_

Bill and Charlie came home from their respective jobs and started to work at the Ministry. Bill underwent auror training and Charlie was given his father's old job. Percy, Fred and George also moved back in. They felt that it would be better if all the Weasley's were together under one roof. They all were sad, but managed to rise above it. However, Ginny could not.

Ginny was never the same again. She became quiet and reserved. She skipped meals, and grew very thin. When one of her brother saw her arm, and saw many bruises, gashes and scratches it was decided that she would be taken out of Hogwarts for the time being and put into St. Mungo's. Charlie took it upon himself to see her most often and to give her things because she was the most responsive to him. She often had to be restrained from scratching at herself. Her brother Percy had been banned from visiting her, as it turned out her diseased mind associated his face the most strongly with her parents, leaving her to bouts of manic hysteria. So, Ron was the last Weasley at Hogwarts.

There was a sudden rapping on the door and Ron ran to it, he opened it up and saw Hermione standing with a single suitcase, and her Hogwarts trunk. She bit her lip endearingly and Ron could just stare at her in amazement. After a few minutes she began to get a little nervous, but Bill led Ron to the living room and Percy welcomed her into the house. He sent Fred and George out after her trunk and put it in her room.

"Well, Hermione . . ." Percy said, "you've certainly changed since I last saw you"

Hermione smiled and a slight blush crept on her cheeks, "I guess I have . . .its been about three years"

Percy smiled, "Ron, are you going to say anything to Hermione or just stand their gawking at her?"

Ron blushed to the scalp of his fiery red hair; "Hey Hermione"

Hermione stifled a laugh as she spoke with mock seriousness, "Hello Ron"

"Why don't we all sit down? It will give us a chance to get reacquainted" Percy asked.

Hermione followed the boys and sat down on a couch. Ron sat next to her, Bill on a chair across from them, Percy to the right, and Fred and George to the left.

"So, Hermione I heard you got Head Girl this year?" Percy asked.

Hermione's nervous face brightened, "yes, I did. I'm very excited about it"

"I remember when I got my Head Boy Badge" Percy said dreamily.

"Yeah and we enchanted it to say 'Bighead Boy'" George said with a laugh.

Percy scowled, "yes, I remember that too"

"As much as I hate it . . . I have work tomorrow, so I better be getting to bed"

"G'night Bill" they all called

One by one they all left; soon it was just Ron and Hermione sitting in the living room. Ron had his head down, but reached over and clasped Hermione's hand

"I'm glad you're here 'Mione"

"Thank you Ron" she said and kissed him on the cheek.

Ron blushed slightly, but recovered. He stood and offered to walk Hermione to her room. She knew that she was taking Ginny's old room and felt slightly guilty about it. As Ron stopped at the door, he reached over and pecked Hermione quickly on the lips. He mumbled 'goodnight' and walked down the hall to his own room. Hermione was left standing there, shocked.

***

Hermione was awoken by a gentle rapping on her door. She yawned and told the person they could enter. Bill poked his head in and said there was breakfast on the table if she wanted some. Hermione thanked him and began to get out of bed.

Hermione appeared in the kitchen, a robe over her pajamas she yawned and smiled at the boys. There was another red headed male at the table; she knew it to be Charlie.

"Good morning Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron" Hermione said with a smile.

A chorus of "Good morning Hermione" sounded through the kitchen

Hermione smiled, she had always loved Ron's family, they treated her so nicely, they were the only pureblooded family to ever do that to her. She traced designs on the little wooden table with her fingertips.

A clock chimed and all they boys with the exception of Ron stood. They all bid Hermione and Ron their good byes and said that it was time for work. Percy, Bill and Charlie were off to the Ministry, Fred and George to their joke shop. Hermione smiled and said that she was going to take a shower.

Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She quickly brushed her hair and changed into some muggle clothes. She went back into Ginny's room, sat down and read. A few minutes later, Ron showed up at her door. Hermione smiled when she saw him, and he suggested they go out and do something. Hermione aptly agreed, thankful that she had something to do.

They left a note for the rest of the Weasleys and took floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione had decided to take Ron on a tour of muggle London. Ron went first, and stepped out of the fireplace with ease. Hermione, however wasn't as experienced with floo as the Ron was, she didn't know to tuck her elbows in so when she yelled the location, she hit her elbows and nearly choked on soot. She was thrown out of the fireplace and into Ron's arms. She breathed his name and buried her face in his chest. She pulled away a moment later having gotten over the shock that flooing can cause. Ron missed having her in his arms, and Hermione felt embarrassed.

They left the Leaky Cauldron and walked into muggle London. Ron was unsure of everything, and felt scared of the muggles. Hermione on the other hand was completely at ease with how things were turning out. This was her home, and no matter how long she had lived in the wizarding world, she always knew that she could belong here as well, and it was a great feeling.

She led Ron all around and even took him on one of those tourist double-decker bus tours. Ron sneaked his hand down and clasped Hermione's in his. She looked taken back, but did not draw her hand away.

At the end of their trip, they got back to the Burrow and found everyone waiting for them.

"Have a fun trip?" Charlie called from the kitchen where he was making dinner

"Yeah, Hermione really knows her stuff"

Hermione bit her lip and smiled. This house certainly liked giving compliments. Ron and Hermione walked into the kitchen where everyone was gathered. Hermione certainly stood out; she was not only the only female, but also the only one without red hair. She smiled and asked how everyone else's day was.

"Well, I'm still stuck shuffling papers on my desk and writing reports on cauldrons and wands. Now they have me writing reports on parchment, ON parchment." Percy vented, "at least my boss knows how to pronounce 'Weasley'" he mumbled as an after thought

"the usual business these days," Bill replied, unable to go into further detail.

"Ginny is doing a bit better. She didn't need restraining today "Charlie said with a hint of sadness

Hermione's heart went out to Charlie. He visited Ginny everyday, and Hermione had heard about how hard it could be to visit her.

Hermione smiled, but still felt sorry for the Weasley's. She had felt a very personal loss when Arthur and Molly had died, their deaths taking place a few days before the deaths of her parents. They were like a second family and Hermione would never forget them. She was happy that they were strong and supportive of each other. Hermione thought briefly about young Ginny, she had been friends with her, and they had gotten truly close over the years. Hermione felt horrible about what had happened to the young girl. She was absolutely terrified of losing her mind as Ginny did. Ginny had been such a strong girl before this, Hermione could remember the battle in the Ministry all too well. Ginny had handled herself as well as anyone. Hermione didn't want to go crazy; she just wanted a semi-normal life, but who could get that when they were a witch?

Hermione slept restlessly that night. She was having nightmares about her parents.

In her mind, Hermione would always be haunted by the images of her parent's heads. It broke her heart every time she thought about it.

Hermione had never had a chance to grieve like a normal muggle would do; days earlier were the Weasley's murders. At that, Hermione knew that her talents would be best spent in books, finding out as much as she can abut Voldemort and how to defeat him. She wanted revenge. She had become even more engrossed in her studies; her friends thought the best thing was to leave her alone. It wasn't until Hermione stopped showing up for meals, and became extremely thin that her friends became worried. They started to spend more time with her, and they wouldn't let her be depressed at all. Hermione still sometimes felt like an obligation, but after today with Ron, she felt that to him . . . she wasn't an obligation. That thought made her heart fill with a warm sensation that swept to her toes.

Having decided that she couldn't sleep, she put on her robe and crept quietly down the stairs. She walked outside to the garden and sat down upon a bench staring up at the moon. She had often marveled at its celestial beauty, it truly was timeless. A full moon tonight, up close and down to earth. Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around her form. She leaned back against a pillar and heard the rhythmic beating of her heart. She was content, and amazed at the moon. It reminded her of reality; she was but a small speck in the universe. Everything that happened to her was not international news, and the world did not revolve around her. That thought both cheered and depressed Hermione. It cheered her because it proved that she could disappear if she wanted to. It depressed her because it reminded her that when she died the world would continue to move without her.

Unbeknownst to her Draco Malfoy was watching the very same moon . . .

***

He rose from his bed, still staring at the moon. He didn't know that Hermione was looking at the moon too; his thoughts were far away from her. They were on Voldemort. Draco wanted nothing more than to see that disgusting git vanquished for good, but Draco didn't want to join Dumbledore's side. He didn't want to join Voldemort's side either. Draco wanted no part in the war; he would just sit back with a bottle of Ogden's and wait for it to be over. He didn't see hoe he had an obligation to either of the parties involved. Lucius wasn't much of a father, and he refused to give him such a term of respect as 'father'. No, the closest thing to a father was his head of house, Severus Snape.

Draco had seen Voldemort up close once, and he didn't want to do it again anytime soon. His face, was so grey, with slits for nostrils…he resembled snake more than man. His eyes though, his eyes are the thing that shows his power, brighter red then you will ever see, they drip with evil.

Draco just wanted Potty to go up against old Voldie and be done with it. If either one of them was killed the world would be a better place, but for Draco's own sake he was able to realize that it would be best if Voldemort was the one defeated. As he knew, as long as Voldemort was in power, Draco was in danger of getting The Mark. If the two could duel and kill each other in the process, he would be rid of the two most annoying wizards his world could ever have produced. Draco thought for a moment, he should throw Lucius into that mix. Draco's life would be set if the three of them were killed at the same time. Draco reached into a drawer on his bedside table, he pulled out his wand and twirled it in his hands for a minute, thinking and contemplating. He wondered what the new year would be like at Hogwarts, it was his final year and he would be able to practice magic at home . . .which included banishing Lucius to kingdom come, or putting him under the cruciatus curse. Of course, being seventeen and a having a life sentence in Azkaban? Draco could think of better things to do with his life.

When he was younger had had always thought about becoming a playboy of sorts, never having to do a thing. He could be living off of daddy, having a new girl every night. Draco realized though, that you couldn't have any of that, or rather HE couldn't have any of that. He had accepted these facts long ago and got over them. After Hogwarts, he had his plan. After the inevitable war… he still didn't have a clue.

Draco turned his back on the moon. He walked over to his bed and lay down. As his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Draco awoke the next morning to his Lucius' yells. Draco rolled his eyes and got out of bed. He walked down to the study with a smirk on his face, even though he knew what was going to happen. Lucius' eyes were crazy, the watery steel was filled with hatred, and yet they were blank like they usually were. Draco's father grabbed his arm and wrenched him to the side. Before beatings Lucius seemed to take a strength-enhancing potion, because Draco knew for a fact that Lucius wasn't strong enough to pull him across the room. His father pulled out his wand and cried:

"CRUCIO!"

Draco fell to the floor in pain. There was no way he was going to give his father ANY satisfaction by crying out. Eyes wild, Lucius continued to curse Draco until Lucius himself cried out in pain. Draco looked, even though he already knew the answer. Voldemort wanted his slaves. Draco suppressed a smirk at the older Malfoy's pain. He sent Draco to his room.

"Your master is calling you, _father_," Draco said with a smirk.

Lucius kicked Draco in his stomach before disapparating with a loud pop. Draco coughed and struggled to get to his feet.

Draco walked to his room, ignoring the latent twitching in his muscles from the curse. He had a smirk on his face, but the smirk was just a mask. He had perfected it at a young age, because of Lucius; he always said emotions were weaknesses, same with feelings. That was why Draco had never had a steady girlfriend. He had a few girls, but no one he actually cared about. 'Feelings are for the weak' he thought quickly.

Draco walked into his room, and stared out of the window, bored. There was never anything to do at the Manor. It was so boring, unless you wanted to spend time with Lucius, his mother, his Aunt or the servants. He didn't particularly care to be social with anyone in the Malfoy Manor, so Draco took it upon himself to stay locked away in his bedroom for as long as possible. In his room, just staring and thinking. He actually was looking forward to Hogwarts, because at least there, there would be entertainment, and his revenge to plot. As he stared out the window, an unconscious smirk spread across his face.

"Just one more year," he said to himself, a true smile crossing his face for the first time in a long time.


	2. Meadows of Heaven

***********************

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

***********************

Chapter Two

"Meadows of Heaven"

With the stars twinkling above in the heavens and the moon with its flawed, yet exquisite beauty shining over head, the night was perfect. Hermione wrapped her cloak tighter around her shivering body. The night was crisp, cold and absolutely perfect. The moon had a calming quality to it and Hermione sniffled softly, becoming completely caught up in her memories.

_"Hermione, love breakfast is ready!"_

_"Okay Mum" _

_Eleven year old Hermione Granger padded downstairs in her pink fuzzy slippers. She smiled to her parents and sat down at the table. She eyed her father for a moment, and he gave her his newspaper. The young girl grinned and began to read it hungrily. It was a Saturday morning, and the sun was shining happily. The day couldn't get any more perfect. _

_Hermione's mother placed a plate of eggs and sausages in front of her.  
_

There was a tap at the window, the Grangers all looked at it and saw a bird. Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged a look, and opened up the window. The owl soared around the room, before dropping a letter directly in front of Hermione. Hermione looked at her parents with a quizzical expression on her young face. She picked up the letter. Her name and her address was written on the front in green ink. She turned the letter over and saw the crest of a place called Hogwarts. She broke the wax seal and pulled out her letter. She read over it, and gasped. She looked at her parents

_"Mum, Dad . . .I'm a witch"_

Someone clearing their throat snapped Hermione out of her nostalgic reverie. She looked up, and saw the bright red Weasley hair then she moved her eyes slowly down. She smiled brightly when she realized it was Ron. She motioned for him to sit next to her, and he did so quickly.

"What are you thinking about?"

Hermione sighed and told him that she had been thinking about when she had gotten her Hogwarts letter. Ron smiled at her, and put his arm around her shoulder. Hermione sighed and leaned into his embrace. She never would have thought that having Ron's arms around her would make her feel safe. She had always felt safe around both of her guy friends, but now with Ron's arms around her, she felt safer than ever.

"I remember when I got mine," he said softly

Ron couldn't believe that he was actually holding Hermione, and that she was letting him.

"Why are you out here so late?" he asked her softly

"I was having nightmares again" she replied to him softly

Ron tightened his grip around her, he knew that she was plagued with nightmares, just like Ginny had been. Ron had had some nightmares too, but he managed to somehow block them from his subconscious. He assumed it was because he used to have perpetual nightmares during his childhood and because of that he knew how to deal with them better. Although, sometimes late at night he could still see his father's body.

Logically, he knew that one day everything that he had gone through would come back to haunt him. He knew that when the war was over he would be able to properly mourn his parents' deaths. Until then though, he was able-somehow-to stay strong for his friends' sake. He was able to be the friend that Harry and Hermione needed as their world crashed down around them. He knew that in times like this, death was inevitable, and that good people were lost to bad things. The dark part of his mind also thought that it was better for them to die now, in case they were unsuccessful in defeating the Dark Lord. He was snapped out of his reverie by a small whimper. He looked down and saw Hermione, a tear rolling down her cheek. Ron's heart immediately began to ache. He longed to end her suffering, to do something, anything that could possibly help her.

Ron, without thinking, clasped Hermione's chin in his hand and pulled her towards him. Their mouths met in a soft kiss. Hermione was startled at first, but Ron was relieved when she kissed him back. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her over to him. Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. Ron ran his tongue across her bottom lip, she opened her mouth, and moaned when she felt his tongue enter her mouth. Ron thought he would be sent over the edge just by that moan. They continued to kiss each other until they found they could no longer breathe. They broke apart, and stared into each other's eyes.

"Wow"

Hermione chuckled at him, she leaned back farther into his arms and nuzzled his neck softly. Ron smiled, he now knew what it was like to kiss Hermione Granger, and he didn't want to ever stop.

"Is this real?" he asked her softly.

The both of them had been distinctly aware of the romantic tension between them, but neither of them realized that the other might potentially have feelings for the other. Though, in the case of Hermione, she was less certain of her feelings for Ron. He, on the other hand, was quite certain he was in love with her.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, "yes, Ron…it is."

They embraced again, and both knew there was no going back.

* * *

Draco Malfoy awoke the next day to a bright light streaming through his obsidian curtains. He groaned from the pain in his eyes, rubbed them slightly and stood up. He stretched and thought about Voldemort, and his ever-expanding army. He had spied on his father, and heard him use the word 'Hogwarts' over and over. Draco feared that Voldemort was planning an attack on the school. Draco only hoped he was mistaken, if the Dark Lord attempted to take Hogwarts while he was there, he had two choices: die or take The Mark. He didn't really want to die, but knew The Mark to be a fate worse than death. If he was mistaken, or if the Dark Lord could wait just one more year, Draco could leave and be safe in hiding.

His thoughts turned to his mother, Narcissa. He knew that she was a gentle woman, but having been raised in a pure blood house and forced to make a respectable pure blood marriage; she put too much stock into blood. Draco hated to think of the fact that he was quite possibly the product of inbreeding. Everyone knew that the remaining amount of pure blood left in the world, especially blood that your family hadn't already married into, was dismal. His mother, emotionally abused by Lucius for Draco's whole life, had turned to drink. She was a full blown alcoholic, and Draco knew that she couldn't be helped. She wouldn't run with him, wouldn't leave her husband and her house…or her drink.

Draco felt his eyes prick with tears at thoughts of his mother. Gathering himself together he pushed the tears back. No emotions, he created the mask, now he must wear it and wear it well. With a sigh, Draco collapsed back on the bed in a moment of laziness. Draco's laziness was cut short by a high pitched aristocratic laugh, he rolled his eyes and groaned loudly . . .the Parkinson's had come for a visit.

* * *

Hermione fell asleep next to Ron, her head nuzzled into his shoulder. He smiled at her warmly, before he picked her up. Cradling her form in his arms, he took one last look at the moon before stepping inside to put her to bed.

Ron crept across the living room with Hermione in his arms; he did not need his brothers awake, wanting to know exactly why Hermione was asleep in his arms. He made it to Ginny's room, and he pushed the door open. Putting Hermione down on the bed and pulling the covers up to her chin he placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead before staring at her fondly.

Hermione awoke naturally in her bed, only she couldn't remember how she got into her bed. She stood and stretched, peeking her head out of her door to see if anyone else was awake, the sound of conversation filled her ears. Smiling to herself she walked downstairs. She entered the kitchen and found that Percy and Ron were already awake. Hermione stood in the doorway, biting her bottom lip, she coughed lightly and both of the men turned around to face her. Percy called out his greetings, while Ron walked over to her and kissed her lips softly. Smiling again to herself she sat down at the Weasley table and helped herself to some coffee.

She took a sip and sighed, feeling the coffee warm her. She sipped her coffee slowly, watching Ron talk to Percy. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how long Ron had had feelings for her. She had been so caught up in her studies and with fighting Voldemort that she hadn't noticed. She wished that he could have told her, but was glad to know. She felt her heart swell when Ron looked over at her and flashed her a smile.

The rest of the Weasley's joined them later and they sat around the table sharing sausages and eggs. They discussed many different topics. Hermione got extremely passionate about inter-house rivalries, and Ron watched her in amazement. Hermione's eyes and face were lit up and she looked gorgeous, when she finished talking, Ron pulled Hermione to him and kissed her hungrily on the mouth.

"R-Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, breaking away

Hermione's cheeks flushed a slight pink as she looked around at the other Weasleys. Percy was rolling his eyes in disgust, Bill and Charlie had smug looks on their faces and Fred and George were trying to hide their snickers of laughter.

"I take it you two are a couple now?" Charlie asked

"I'd like to think so"

A clock struck the hour and Charlie stood.

"I better be going I'm going to visit Ginny today" he said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I wish I could go" Percy said sadly.

Charlie bid his good-byes and apparated out. Everyone else eventually rose, stating that they were each going to do a different activity, Percy and Bill to play chess and the twins to their room. Ron arose with Hermione and he clasped his hand gently in hers, suggesting that they take a walk.

* * *

Draco had a dark expression on his face as he stared, brooding, at his fireplace. His steel eyes were narrowed, staring directly into the flames. His mind raced with excuses to avoid the unavoidable visit from Pansy. His parents had been pushing him to date her since they started school together. They thought that it would be a find pure blood match. A match the Dark Lord himself would approve. Pansy was all for that, she had even taken to planning their children's names. The one hitch in the plan was that Draco could not stand the vile-tempered girl.

Her main concern was with herself, her appearance and with gaining his affections. He had been naïve enough as a child to think that perhaps Pansy would be the right girl for him; he had even taken her to the Yule Ball in Fourth year, much to the joy of their parents. After that, she seemed to think them a couple. She had taken to yelling at every girl who so much looked his way. Draco abhorred her jealous ways and quickly ended their relationship. She had been so devastated; Draco feared she would have a psychotic break. Instead, she simply refused to believe that they were broken up. She continued on, acting as though they were dating, even going so far as to tell everyone that Draco had plans to propose to her over the holidays.

There was a quick rap at his door. He called for the knocker to enter. It was his mother.

"Draco, darling, your father wishes you to come downstairs and join us," she said with a slight slur.

Draco nodded and stood, not wishing to speak ill of his father in front of his mother. After his she walked out of the room he got dressed. He went downstairs and put on his emotionless mask. He entered the room, steeling himself for the uncomfortable moments ahead of him.

"Draco, take Pansy outside. Enjoy the garden," his father commanded.

Pansy called his name shrilly and ran over to him. She draped herself on him, he nodded to his father and they walked outside, he wrenched his arm from her grasp. They didn't make it to the Garden, but the solarium. Draco walked over to a bench and sat down; Pansy's pug face stared at him with lust.

"Draco?" she called out to him

He turned to her, "what?"

"You know that you don't have to hide your feelings anymore right?"

Draco looked at Pansy as though she were insane. His eyes were dark with annoyance and he tried to push himself further away from her. She leaned in to kiss him. Draco pushed her away when her lips made sudden contact with his. She cried out and her eyes filled with tears.

"But, But…Draco…don't you love me?"

"Pansy, I don't want my mother to see," he said coldly

Pansy seemed to accept this, because her whimpers stop. She continued to stare at him until they got called in for a meal. Draco stood and walked in silence, while Pansy tried to drape herself over him, every time she got close his gait would quicken and she would stumble. He reached the Manor and strode into the dinning room coolly.

His eyes roamed around the room, Narcissa was sitting at one end of the mahogany table, her vodka in her glass. Mrs. Parkinson sitting next to her, her posture perfect and a cold sneer on her harsh features. Mr. Parkinson on her left his facial features identical to Pansy's. Lucius at the end of the table, sneering in disgust at his wife. Draco sat next to his father, emotionless; Pansy sauntered in next to him and sat in the chair next to his. Her hand snaked across the gap and straight into Draco's lap. He nearly cried out in surprise and tried to remove Pansy's hand. His cheeks grew hot from embarrassment. He managed finally to get her hand away when he kicked her hard under the table.

Draco prayed that his father was not watching this exchange. The last thing he needed was for his father to think that he found Pansy sexually appealing. His father had previously tried to 'give' Draco one of the servants, to aid him 'in becoming a man'. Draco had flat out refused. Draco feared that his father would use this as another excuse to be 'helpful'. Draco kept his eyes downcast, refusing to meet Pansy or his father's eyes.

Dinner began in the usual cold silence of small talk and the clinking of silver on china . . .

* * *

Back from their walk, Ron and Hermione walked the path up to the burrow hand in hand. Hermione had felt happier in the last two days than she had in the past two years. Part of her felt guilty for her happy feelings while so many were suffering. She felt guilty from the memory of her parents. She pushed those thoughts to the back her mind. She was determined to allow herself a little time to be happy.

Ron grinned at Hermione and pulled her closer to him; she giggled and bit her lip. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose.

"What are we doing for the rest of today Miss Granger?"

"Well Mr. Weasley, that would depend what did you have in mind?"

Ron grinned at her and sent her up to get changed. Hermione felt light as a feather. She went into Ginny's room and closed the door behind her. She walked over to her trunk and opened the lid. A wave of nostalgia hit her immediately. Her thoughts carried her to first year, how young and innocent she was, always striving to prove herself. Second year, how she was petrified for part of the year, third year when she discovered Professor Lupin's secret and when she had met Sirius Black and when she had learned the truth about Harry's parents. Fourth year, her innocence plucked away from her, as she fought with her friends about trivial nonsense, and had to deal with Harry and what he had seen. He had cried on her shoulder, and she held him close to her. He told Ron about a month later, who handled it surprisingly well. He didn't yell, curse Voldemort, he simply put his arm around his friend and let him tell the story. Fifth year had been the hardest to date, they had to deal with Umbridge and they founded the D.A. and had fought against the Death Eaters in the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Before then, Christmas Break, Arthur Weasley had been killed just a little over a week before Christmas. A week after his funeral, Molly Weasley had been killed. On Christmas day, she learned her parents had been killed. At the end of the year in the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, Sirius Black had been killed. Their sixth year had seemed tame by comparison.

Hermione awoke from her memories by the sound of an owl tapping at her window. She let the bird in and stroked his feathers softly and told it to go down to the kitchen for some treats. She opened up the letter and read it quickly.

_**Hermione, **_

**Hey, thought I'd drop you a word while I have the chance. I'm not allowed to tell you where I am, in case this owl is intercepted. But, I'm safe and I'll see you at Hogwarts. I miss you two loads, send Ron my 'Hello'. **

**Harry**

Hermione sighed she missed Harry too. It was getting harder for him, she knew. The prophecy they had pulled from the shelves of the ministry had told them of Harry's true connection with Voldemort. Hermione felt the hairs on her arms prick up at her memory of Harry telling her, 'neither one can live while the other survives'. Being Harry's friend was never easy, and her association with him had cost Hermione her parents. But she knew, deep down inside that she truly loved Harry as a brother, and she believed in him, she knew in her bones that they would be successful in their efforts. She had resolved after Harry had appeared with the body of Cedric Diggory that she was with him until the very end, win or lose. She knew that Ron, who Harry had been instant best friends with, had resolved to be with Harry until the end when they were in second year, battling the basilisk. Hermione was not certain that Ron realized then how far their adventures would take them, but she admired his conviction. It had initially been stronger than she had been capable of. Hermione put the letter in her trunk and pulled out a change of muggle clothes. She ran downstairs, and landed into Ron who was on his way up to check on her. She smiled as she lay on top of him.

"Hi there"

"Bloody hell Hermione, you scared me!"

"Sorry" she said, pecking his lips.

"HEY! HEY! You two, no snogging on the floor" Bill yelled in mock anger.

Hermione blushed and got up from Ron quickly. Ron sent death glares to his oldest brother whom only laughed in return. He walked into the living room and suppressed the urge to shudder, he automatically looked up the portrait of his parents and slightly nodded to them in recognition. Hermione noticed this and walked over to him, she snaked an arm around him and kissed his neck softly. He turned to her and smiled.

"I got a lot from Harry," she whispered.

"Yeah? What did it say?"

"Just that he's safe and he'll see us at Hogwarts,"

Ron nodded to her and sighed, leaning his head against hers.

They sat down on an old couch and pondered exactly what to do that day.

* * *

Draco was bored out of his wits at dinner. His parents seemed to be incapable of being remotely entertaining. The polite chatter, the clink of silver on china and the slightly slurred words of his mother were beginning to become too much. He almost wanted to risk a beating just so he could get out of there. He looked over at his father, how he despised the man. He was lowly, lower than a filthy mudblood. Draco had vowed when he entered Hogwarts that he would not end up the man his father had become. A cold, malicious, heartless, cruel man with no free will left at all, a slave to a vicious cold-blooded killer. A man that would no hesitate to kill his own followers if he thought it would get him farther ahead, a Slytherin at his worst indeed.

Thinking about Slytherins, Draco's thoughts were pulled towards thinking about his head of house, Severus Snape. Draco didn't know much about the man, except that he was a death eater. His father spoke of him often, Draco didn't know what he did for the dark lord or how high up he was in the scheme of things, but Draco did know that he had a fear value, which he used often.

Draco continued to sit, and nibble softly on his food. He didn't have much of an appetite for this sort of thing. He honestly at this point felt disgusted with the Malfoy name. When his father died, he would make the name better, it would still strike fear into the hearts of mudbloods and purebloods alike, but Draco would not have these death eater parties, no more cunning mind games for Voldemort's favor. Draco was sick of that shit and wanted no part in it at all.

Cutting one last piece of his steak, Draco put his knife down and raised the fork to his lips. With trained perfection he put the steak into his mouth and chewed it absent-mindedly. He ignored every thought his brain could throw at him and just finished his dinner silently.

When Dinner was over, as signaled by one of the Malfoy's house elves, Neape, appeared to clear the table the group stood and retired to one of the studies. Draco followed mutely behind two couples, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. While Pansy seemed determined to establish herself as his companion, she continuously tried to wall in stride with him. Draco kept speeding up or slowly down his gait to keep her off balance.

The party entered a large grand study with a lit fireplace. The two couples sat adjacent to each other around the fire, leaving only a small chaise for Draco and Pansy. Draco rolled his eyes and sighed, seating himself as close to the end of the chaise as he could. Pansy took this as an invitation, and sat right next to him, her thigh brushing against his. Draco's eyes swept around the room, he saw his father staring him down with a smirk. Pansy's mother was also staring, not at Draco, but at Lucius, a hungry look in her eyes. Narcissa stood to make herself another drink. Mr. Parkinson was watching Draco and Pansy, a nasty look on his face.

"Draco," Narcissa called from the bar, "why don't you take Pansy for a stroll? No need to bother youth with the problems of the aged."

Thankful for the excuse to leave the room, Draco stood. He strode purposefully across the room, his hands still clasped behind his back. He made no effort to wait for Pansy, knowing full well she would follow him, whether he wanted her to or not.

This time he strode out of Malfoy manner entirely, his watery steel eyes swept across the immaculately kept gardens. The Malfoy Gardens were massive, covering two acres alone. Draco's favorite spot, one he would not visit with Pansy if the Dark Lord himself forced him, was directly in the center. It was a gazebo, surrounded by hedges fifteen feet high. The trees all around the gazebo were enchanted with fairy lights. Draco was unsure how such a peaceful place could even exist in such a hateful house.

Instead, Draco strode down the path. His head was down, his chin almost resting against his chest. His silver-blonde hair fell into his eyes, but he paid no mind. His mind was on far away things, as it often was these days. He imagined himself somewhere else, somewhere away from all of the hate. Somewhere where he could finally be free from expectations, free from commitments and free from everyone who wanted a piece of him. Life could finally be peaceful.

Draco knew, as in just a few days he would be leaving for Hogwarts that this was most likely the last time he would stride around the Gardens. He was determined to enjoy it, even with Pansy there. He longed to see his gazebo one last time, but he wouldn't take Pansy to his special spot, the one spot in this whole manor that had ever brought him a single ounce of peace.

He paused by a Moonflower, a relative of the Moonseed. The Moonflower was bread to simply be beautiful and not poisonous; the petals mimic the moon's phases. Draco knew that it was one of the few plants in the gardens that were not poisonous.

Pansy shuffled up next to him, and he knew that she had no stomach for true beauty. He sighed and turned to her, as if to silently ask her 'what do you want?' She offered him a sweet smile which Draco did not return. Instead he knelt next to the plant, studying it further. She knelt with him and Draco's jaw clenched. He took a step away from the Moonflower and turned back to face the house. Pansy sidled up next to him, batting her eyelashes.

Unable to take anymore, Draco turned to her.

"Yes, Pansy?"

"No one from inside the house can see us, Draco" she said with a giggle.

"That is fascinating, Pansy. Excellent observation," he replied, doing his best to imitate Professor Snape.

Pansy got close to Draco, and cooed in his ear while wrapping her arms around him.

"You know Pansy; I heard Blaise Zabini wants to date you. His mother is far wealthier than the Malfoy family. He's pureblood and from what I understand, most women find him exceedingly attractive"

Pansy's grip loosened, and Draco thought for a fleeting moment that he had won . . . no such luck. Pansy's grip tightened, "but Draco-"

"Pansy Parkinson," a sinister voice drawled, "kindly detach yourself from my nephew, I have business with him"

"Madam Lestrange!" Pansy squeaked. She dipped into a quick curtsy and let go of Draco.

The three stood there for a moment, Pansy with wide, scared eyes at Bellatrix. Draco, one eyebrow cocked and his head tilted to the side, his gaze swept back and forth between the two women. Finally, Bellatrix's eyes widened and she demanded:

"What are you waiting for? Off with you now!"

Pansy squeaked and ran off for the house. Draco watched her flee with a bemused smirk. The smirk faded when he realized her was alone with his Aunt. His Aunt Bellatrix, Voldemort's most trusted lieutenant, his right hand. Draco knew that what ever she wanted with him…the Dark Lord had something to do with it.

* * *

Hermione and Ron were still sitting on the couch a few hours later, they had shifted their positions though, and Hermione had her head in Ron's lap, while he was stroking her hair. Ron's other brothers had walked past them on their ways to various activities, but the couple just sat there, bored out of their wits.

"Do you want to go and get some lunch at the Leaky Cauldron?" Bill called to them from the kitchen

Ron and Hermione practically leapt from the couch to where he was, showing him that they were ready to go. Bill laughed jovially and ushered them to the fireplace. They flooed there, and Hermione had no trouble with it. They sat down at a table and ordered their drinks. The trio chatted amicably for a while until Bill got up to use the restroom. Ron, who was sitting next to Hermione, put his hand on her upper thigh. Hermione giggled at him and tried to remove his hand. Ron reached down and pecked her lips lightly. Hermione mock glared at him and he finally removed his hand.

Bill returned a moment later and the innkeeper; Tom came back with their drinks, ready to take their orders.

Their orders taken, Tom smiled at the trio and walked away. Hermione returned the smile with ease, and Bill cleared his throat. Hermione snapped to attention and looked at him with curiosity.

"So you two are finally together?"

Hermione blushed a shade of red and looked away, while Ron grinned like a madman.

"Yes, we are" Ron said pulling Hermione closer to him.

"I'm glad, you two deserve some happiness, we all do, but you two especially." Bill said a little sadly, "to the both of you" he said strongly, raising his glass into the air.

Hermione nodded and raised her glass in the air. Ron laughed and put his up as well. They clinked the glasses together and laughed.

"Happiness and good fortune all around" Hermione whispered

* * *

"You were always my favorite, did you know that Draco?"

"Aunt, the only other child your sisters have produced is in the Order of the Phoenix"

Bellatrix's eyes blazed and slapped Draco across the cheek, "You hold your tongue, boy." She seemed to calm for a moment and returned to the sweeter self she had been before, "Draco, dearie…you know being a favorite of mine can lead to you becoming a favorite of someone much – more- powerful." She drew out the three words and punctuated them by grasping his shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

Draco's mind rushed with answers to his Aunt's words. He needed a way to diffuse the situation without being the next one to accept The Mark. He knew of her sadistic, obsessive love for the Dark Lord. He knew that like most pureblood marriages, especially ones from the ancient house of Black, were made solely due to the respectable pureblood status of their partner. He knew that his Aunt's marriage had been just like his mother's marriage…not a love match, but a blood match. He knew she did not love her husband any more than he loved Harry Potter.

He was snapped from his reverie by his Aunt's eyes blazing. She shook him sharply.

"Answer me, boy."

"My dearest Aunt, I desire nothing more than to be of use to the pursuit of our family's success and good fortune. However, as I have yet to complete my formal education…I will be of little use to you"

This answer seemed to please Bellatrix. She smiled darkly and let go of his shoulders. She took his arm and snaked it around hers. She strolled with him through the gardens for a moment before speaking to him.

"Draco…you are still of use to us yet. My Lord knows of your skill as an occlumens. As such, he wants you to be his eyes and ears at Hogwarts. You can prove that his loyalty in our family is not unfounded, we will be rewarded greatly," she whispered, almost gleefully.

"But, Aunt-"

"As you are so talented," she interrupted, "I know, as your instructor, that not even Dumbledore or Snape will be able to enter your mind."

"But, Aunt-"

"As you have mentioned your desire to help our family's success, I graciously told the Dark Lord that you have accepted his request of you," she added with obvious pleasure.

She broke away from Draco and started back up the path towards the house. She turned and called out to him:

"Oh and Draco, my dearest, dearest nephew…see that you do this job properly. Or you will have more than your father to answer to. I will make you beg for death before I even hand you over to my Lord."


	3. Ice Queen

***********************

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

***********************

Chapter Three

"Ice Queen"

"Everything is ready?"

"Yes, my master."

Red eyes stared out of a pale face, a face so contorted with evil that it resembled more serpent than man. His eyes swept upward to a female with wild black hair and even more wild black eyes. She kept her heavy lidded eyes downcast, but still smiled demurely at him. He seemed pleased with her, bade her to come forward with a sweep of his hand. She seemed truly honored, as though nothing would please her greater in her entire life. She took a step forward and the seated man caressed her cheek lightly. The wild woman looked as though she may faint from sheer pleasure. Her smile swept to her ears and she even giggled.

The man sat in front of a fire in a dark room in a dilapidated building. The building was disconcertingly close to Hogwarts, but completely unplottable and under the protection of the fidelius charm. No auror or member of the Order could hope to find the newest headquarters of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

"You have confidence in your nephew?"

"Yes, my Master. Draco desires to be nothing but a servant towards your endeavors."

"Good, good," his red gaze turned to his serpent familiar, "Nagini, my sweet…."

A snake slithered into view and up her master's leg. The snake slithered around his shoulders and laid her head on his forearm. He stroked the snake's head softly with his hand, covered in a black leather glove. It was the closest to affection that Voldemort had the capability of showing.

"We will have Hogwarts," he whispered softly to the snake before turning his gaze back to the woman. The wild woman smiled deviously, a maniacal light shining in her eyes. She looked insane, a perfect match to the evil man seated in front of her. She threw her head back and laughed shrilly, aristocratically. Voldemort turned his gaze back to the fire that burned behind him.

* * *

Finally able to find a peaceful moment to himself, Draco was sitting in his favorite spot in the Malfoy gardens: The Gazebo. He still didn't understand how his father had been able to create such a beautiful location. His eyes drifted around the small area, fifteen foot hedges surrounded the gazebo, keeping it hidden from sight but still somehow not blocking the natural light. Several varieties of flowers surrounded the building, and there was almost always a breeze. He was seated inside, enjoying the cool breeze that whipped through the small structure. In his lap he had propped open a book, _The Odyssey_. He was determined to enjoy his last days at the Malfoy Manor, and even more determined to avoid his father.

Draco tried to focus on his book, but his mind kept drifting to last night and his conversation with his Aunt. The moment he had been dreading had happened. He had been recruited for a task by the Dark Lord. His Aunt had accepted the 'honor' on his behalf, that alone made him want throw an unforgivable curse her way. No doubt this was the first step on the way to receiving The Mark. To him, The Mark was a fate worse than death. Draco knew his only real hope of survival was to either put off his assignment for as long as possible…or stall, give slightly useful information until the end of the school year, by which he might have perfected his modification of the fidelius charm. He could only hope he had it perfected by then, he knew that if Voldemort wanted to find him bad enough simply hiding out in a muggle settlement or somewhere away from the general human population would not be able to stop him. Only magic could hold him back.

If only he could come up with a discreet way to get some help on the charm. He wracked his brain for some person, who excelled greatly in their spellwork who would be able to help him. His first, evil thought went to Hermione Granger, but he pushed it out of his mind immediately. Even if she was remotely willing to help him, she would have absolutely no understanding as to why he needed the spell perfected in the first place. Who was he kidding though, she wouldn't even help him. His mind raked over every single conflict he had had with the girl over the past six years. There was far too much damage to that relationship for him to be able to ask for her help with anything. Anger flared in his blood as he realized he had felt himself briefly at the mercy of the filthy mudblood. Just because he didn't believe in their mass extermination didn't mean that he wanted to actually associate with any of them, he still had his Malfoy pride after all. While Mudblood Granger might be the best option for figuring such a thing out, he would rather die than ask her for her help. Besides, he knew she would be far too busy helping out Perfect Potter defeat the Dark Lord.

Draco rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a tension headache. Sighing, he closed his book and stood. He needed to pack for Hogwarts. He strode the gravel path from the gazebo towards Malfoy Manor. He paused and turned back towards the only spot in his entire childhood home that had ever given him a happy memory. He tried to memorize it, just as it was. It would take the deaths of both the Dark Lord and his father for him to be able to return to it at any point in his life...the odds seemed to be against him in that regard. Shaking his head, he turned again and walked back into the Manor to pack for his school year.

* * *

Hermione stood at the edge of her trunk; she was slowly laying clothing in it, her thoughts drifting from one topic to the next. She looked at her books that she had bought, and studied the covers before she packed them into her trunk carefully, as a mother would put a child into a car seat.

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione turned around to see Ron walk in. He smiled at her, his eyes soft and loving. Hermione's gaze lowered to the ground and then back up to his face. She smiled and put her arms around his neck, embracing him. Ron sighed as they pulled away and held out a bouquet of wildflowers. Hermione gasped and took them, sniffing them softly.

"They're beautiful Ron, thank you" she whispered as she pecked him on the cheek.

She fetched a small glass from her bathroom and filled it with water, placing the wildflowers inside. She noticed in her absence that Ron had slid from the room, just as quickly as he had come in. Her brow furrowed in confusion, but she decided she would find out what he was up to later. Hermione turned around and continued to pack her trunk with her school supplies. They would be leaving the next morning, and Hermione was really sad, she felt as though it would be the last time that she would be able to spend time with the Weasleys. Logically she knew very well that it could be, she and Ron were wanted by the Death Eaters for their connection to Harry Potter...and the rest of the Weasleys were blood traitors. Before the war even began they could be killed...she stopped her mind from thinking any further. She would not think about the what-ifs and instead, she was determined to think about what had already occurred. Her brown eyes glanced around Ginny's room and she caught sight of a Weasley family photo, most importantly she could see the smiling faces of Arthur, Molly and Ginny. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she thought of the deaths of Arthur and Molly. The deaths of the Patriarch and Matriarch of the family had crippled the Weasley children, but she knew that they would prevail. The deaths of their parents had united their family and pushed them closer together.

Hermione's family was another story . . . she had none. She was the last Granger left, she had no Aunts, no Uncles, Grandparents had died; there was no one on the same planet that shared the same blood as her. Still, a little voice spoke to her that now…maybe their families would be united…maybe together they would be mighty again. She knew though, that with seven children, Molly and Arthur Weasley's memory would live on…while her own parents would not be so lucky.

Sighing, Hermione closed the lid of her trunk and walked out the door. Walking slowly down the steps, she overheard the voices of the Weasley men, one that seemed to be absent however, was Ron's.

"I am worried, they have so much of their lives ahead of them to be rushing into things . . . I mean what if it doesn't work out? I don't want to lose Hermione"

"None of us do Charlie" Hermione heard Percy say.

"So you guys are against them? Ron would have to be a fool not to love her." Bill said with a sigh.

Hermione could feel herself blushing, and she knew that she shouldn't be listening, but she could not get her ears away from the commotion.

"We have to decide here and now, Hermione will always be a part of the Weasley clan . . . even if she ends up with, oh I don't know Krum or something"

"I agree with George" Fred said defiantly.

"Then it is settled, Hermione is officially a Weasley, through thick and thin" Bill said, and Hermione could hear the smile in his voice.

Hermione smiled to herself. After listening to that conversation, she loved the silly Weasley's all the more. She walked silently up the stairs, and descended again, this time making more noise than before. She smiled to the Weasleys and acted like she knew of nothing that had just taken place. She plopped down on the couch with a sigh.

"I feel like this is the end," she said softly.

Percy, who was sitting next to her, smiled softly at her, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the glass like quality his eyes had as he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm going to miss this place . . . you know, when I go to school," Hermione said.

"Eh" Fred shrugged, "you'll always be welcome here"

They were nods and murmured approvals all around, and Hermione had to smile. She had never felt so accepted in all of her life. It was the first time since her parents had died that she had felt like she was actually _home_. She was only regretful of the fact that she had to leave to go to Hogwarts the very next day. Unlike Harry, Hogwarts had never been Hermione's great escape. She had loved her previous years there, but never had the same emotional connection with the school.

"Where's Ron?" she asked, realizing he was no where to be found.

"We thought he was with you" said Percy, a sudden look of concern crossing his face.

"No…" she trailed off, standing to her feet.

She ran from the living room, desperate to find him. In these uncertain times, a million thoughts ran through her head. Each thought that progressed was darker than the previous. She thrust open the Dutch door to the garden. Her head whirled around until she spotted him, breathing a sigh of relief she ducked her head back inside to tell his brothers that she had found him. She grabbed a shawl from the hook by the door and wrapped it around herself. She walked quietly over to Ron, who appeared to be deep in melancholy thought. She sat beside him on the fallen log at the edge of their property. He was not startled when she sat next to him; he had heard her walking up the path. His blue eyes had remained staring straight in front of him. She followed his gaze and found him staring at the two memorial stones placed in the garden to honor his parents. They had been buried in the family graveyard, but the boys had thought it appropriate to mark where they had lived and died.

"'Mione…" he started, "before we go to Hogwarts tomorrow…there's something we need to do,"

"What is it, Ron?"

"I want to see Ginny."

* * *

Draco walked into his father's study. He was feeling quite tired, the Parkinson's left at midnight, but thanks to his Aunt's intervention he had managed to avoid Pansy for the rest of the evening. Draco's steel eyes saw his father at his large desk. The older man's brow was furrowed in concentration. He was furiously writing with his quill, muttering under his breath. Draco cleared his throat, and his father's head snapped up.

"What do you want boy?" he snarled

"Father, Mother wanted me to inform you that I am leaving for the Hogwarts express . . . right about now"

"Remember Draco, that the Dark Lord expects you to do your duty"

"Yes Father."

"Oh and Draco? Do try to beat that Mudblood in marks this year, it is embarrassing for the family."

"Yes, Father."

"Get out of my sight" Lucius snarled again, his lip curled into a horrible sneer.

Draco turned around and walked out of the room with a roll of his eyes. He knew that he would not be able to be the top student, that title went to the mudblood bitch every year. However, Draco's father would not be able to touch him anymore after this year.

Draco paused, his eyes clenched, he let out a dry sob, and opened up his eyes. The steel was filled with such emotional pain. Draco regained composure and put his emotionless mask back on. He slapped himself across the face, making sure to hit the already sore cheek his Aunt had struck the previous evening. It seemed to pull him together and he regained his usual smirk.

He walked to where his mother was standing. He nodded to her as she took yet another sip of her amber colored beverage. He walked out of the door to the muggle car that would take him to the station, and his mother called to him, her words slurred:

"Have a good year Draco"

Draco turned and waved politely to his mother, his mask not showing any of his emotions. His heart panged as he turned his back on his mother, knowing that it would most likely be the last time they saw each other alive. His eyes trailed over Malfoy Manor and he tried to memorize every detail. He silently said his goodbyes to his childhood home, climbed into the car and never looked back.

* * *

Holding hands, Hermione and Ron walked along the muggle streets of London until they came to the familiar abandoned building of Purge and Dowse Ltd. Ron let Hermione go in front of him, and she crossed the barrier into the hospital with ease.

Once inside they walked past the witch sitting at the help desk. Her small brown eyes peering over her glasses swept over Ron. She made a small tut-tut sound, as though she recognized his trademark Weasley red hair and knew him to be visiting his sister. Hermione cast her a curious glance, but the witch kept her eyes downcast, determined to not look up at her.

Ron's body stiffened with each step inside the building, Hermione squeezed his hand encouragingly. They made their way to the fourth floor and paused outside of the doors to the Janus Thickey Ward. They would have to admitted into the ward by the Healer on Duty. As they waited, Hermione glanced over to Ron.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"How is that Ginny is in here? I thought this ward was just for magical damage?"

"Well, Dumbledore arranged the whole thing. Because of her connection with the Order, Dumbledore reckoned she'd be safer here than at a muggle hospital."

The doors opened and Ron and Hermione were permitted to enter. They did not stop to gaze at any of the other patients. They knew of the famous residents, Gilderoy Lockhart and the Longbottoms. They had precious little time left on visiting hours. Ron clutched Hermione's hand so tightly she thought he might shatter her bones. She said nothing though, knowing he needed her support.

Ron's last visit to Ginny had been during the previous Christmas holidays, he often found the visits too painful. As the closest brother to her age, Ginny had felt a deep connection with Ron. Though her favorite brother without a doubt was Charlie, he was the only one of her brothers who could keep her calm. Ron's sad blue eyes finally spotted her. She wasn't restrained today, but she was sitting with her chin resting on her knees, staring at the wall. Her brown eyes vacant, she was muttering something under her breath.

Ron froze at the sight of her. Hermione flashed him an encouraging smile, but he was unable to move. Hermione kissed Ron's cheek and took a few steps forward towards Ginny. She kept her distance from the girl, crouching down to be on her level. Hermione knew that people who were often in this situation looked bad, physically speaking. But she was not prepared for Ginny's appearance. Hermione remembered the last time she had seen the girl at school, she had long red hair that hung straight and glossy. Her skin had been pale, but still hearty and full of life. Her brown eyes had shone brightly every time she spoke. Now, her hair was shorter and oily, it hung disheveled in tufts as though she had been pulling and twisting on it and it had retained its shape from being dirty. Her eyes seemed empty, haunted and her skin was gaunt, almost yellow and white instead of the rosy and white she had been before.

"Hi Ginny, its Hermione," she whispered.

Ginny's head whipped towards Hermione. She took in the girl's appearance and smiled. Hermione was shocked; the way that she had been described to her had made it sound as though Ginny was completely insane with absolutely no hope of recovery. Ginny seemed positively lucid.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered as though she was saying the word for the first time, like she was trying to see how it fit in her mouth.

"H-How are you?" Hermione inquired, unsure of herself.

"Ginny?" Ron finally spoke.

Ginny scooted around a little and took in the sight of her brother. She smiled and reached out to him. He clasped her hands in his and sat on the floor next to her. Her brown eyes shifted back and forward between them.

"Finally together," Ginny said.

Hermione noted that Ginny's voice sounded tired and drawn out, as though the effort to speak was about all she could manage. Her head seemed to always be tilted to one side, as though holding her head up straight was impossible. Hermione was snapped from her thoughts by Ron nudging her gently.

"Yeah, Ron and I finally got together."

The trio was silent for a moment before Ginny's head suddenly snapped up. She dropped Ron's hand as though it was on fire. She stared at him, a look of abject horror on her face. She gasped and scuttled back towards the wall, as far away from Ron as she possibly could. Her eyes were wide and wild with fear, she shook her head hard.

"Who stands behind you? Under that hood? Is it the father of the palest snake? No!"

Ron stared gaping at Ginny, utterly dumbfounded. Suddenly, she launched herself at him, screaming. She wrapped her tiny hands around his neck and was attempting to strangle him. Hermione shrieked and pulled at her, trying to get her off. Behind them there was a sudden bellow:

"Ginevra Weasley!"

Ginny suddenly flew backward and was pressed against the wall. Hermione's eyes were wide and she rushed over to Ron, putting her arms around him. She held him tightly and kissed his cheek while he coughed and tried to gain control on his breathing. Hermione noticed that his eyes were glassy and his expression was dark.

"Now then, let me have a look at you Mr. Weasley," the witch said, her tone much softer, "ah, she's bruised you…but you'll be fine."

"Fine?!" Ron cried incredulously, "she nearly killed me!"

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"She's been like this lately…perfectly lucid one moment then speaking in riddles. However, you are the first person she's tried to strangle."

"Don't I feel lucky?" muttered Ron.

The witch tapped her wand against Ron's bruised throat and muttered a few words. Ron could feel the pain and tightness in his throat loosen. He finally felt as though he could breathe normally again. Hermione helped Ron to his feet. He began to walk out of the ward, angry and determined not to look at Ginny again. Hermione however cast one last sad look at the girl who had been her friend. The sight of Ginny, restrained, her head lolling from side to side was almost as much as Hermione could take. She paused and stared at Ginny, her eyes filling with tears. Ron had left the ward, still hurt and angry with what had happened. Hermione turned to leave.

"Life as you know it will end this year."

Hermione turned; Ginny was looking right at her. Hermione shivered at her harsh words and left the ward to look for Ron.

Neither one of them spoke on their way back to the Burrow. Hermione just gripped Ron's hand, though he held hers limply. When they reached the Burrow Ron tore off upstairs. Hermione stared after him, sadly. She stepped into the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea. A few minutes later Charlie walked in. He sat at the table, watching Hermione with interest.

"So, I understand you went to see Ginny today."

"Yeah…" she replied, trailing off.

She sat across from Charlie, her mug in her hands. Her eyes were far off, deep in thought. Charlie reached across the table and placed his palm on Hermione's arm. This seemed to startle her and she looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. She couldn't even begin to understand how Charlie must feel every day, seeing his only sister in the hospital bed. Hermione felt worse enough being Ginny's friend and seeing her there.

"She tried to strangle Ron."

"What?" he whispered truly shocked.

"She told me that life as I know it would end this year"

"Well," he started, "that could very well be true. After all…this year might be the year that the war breaks out…everything you know about life would change"

Hermione nodded, "I suppose you're right. She said something about 'the father of the palest snake'…" she trailed off again.

"I'm not sure…she's been talking in riddles every few days for a while now."

She nodded again, "can you keep me informed of what she says? I'd be curious to see how she improves"

Charlie nodded, rising to make himself a cup of tea.

"I'm going to bed, goodnight Charlie," she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

"Night 'Mione," he called as she left the room.


	4. Bye Bye Beautiful

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

***********************

Chapter Four

"Bye Bye Beautiful"

September the first, the day most students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been looking forward to all summer. The first of September marked the day their education would begin again, and students from far and wide made the journey to King's Cross Station, to board the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9¾. There was, however, one student who had not been looking forward to the start of school:

Draco Malfoy.

Oh, of course he had been looking forward to getting out of the Manor for the final time, but he had not looked forward to boarding the train and coming into contact, no doubt, with Potty, Weasel and Mudblood Granger. It seemed as though every year since he started school he had had some altercation on the train with the Dumbledore's favorites. He couldn't help but hope that this year would be the exception, not because of a lack of wanting to fight, oh no, Draco still loved a good duel. He wanted to maximize his time working on his enchantment.

He crossed the platform barrier and spied the familiar red steam engine. He took in the sight of all the students, bustling around. The amount of mirth and happiness seemed to have diminished a bit; Draco knew it was from fear of the Dark Lord. Attendance seemed to have been down this year, he saw far less students on the platform than he had the previous year. Through the crowd he spotted the sight he head been hoping to avoid this year: the familiar red hair and freckled men of the Weasley clan and the bushy brown haired head of Mudblood Granger. What he didn't see was dear old Potter; Draco wondered what happened to him. Despite himself he couldn't help but hope the Dark Lord hadn't killed him. After all, Draco reminded himself Potter was the lesser of the two evils. He sneered at the group until he noticed something funny. Weasel and the mudblood were holding hands. Immediately, without controlling himself he felt an icy dagger plunge through his stomach. He realized with horror that he was jealous. Then he chided himself, of course he was jealous. Here Draco was, alone and suffering and those two had found happiness together…Draco was jealous of the companionship, of the happiness. He knew deep down he would miss his old life, as tragic as it had been. The abuse, like it or not had been a source of contact between Draco and his father, some nasty little part of him would miss it. It was one of the few times Lucius had felt like paying attention to his only son. Draco also knew he would miss his mother. He felt sorry for her, but she had chosen her life just as he had to choose his. But still, he wished he could take her with him.

The sad realization left Draco feeling lonely and completely alone in the world. He felt the sore places on his back tingle and they reminded him that being alone was better. He put his smirking mask in place and contemplated saying something nasty to the group, but knew that it wouldn't necessarily make him feel better; it would most likely just make him their target for the rest of the train ride.

He was still watching them one suddenly, Mudblood Granger turned and looked at him over her shoulder. He somewhat shocked by her making eye contact with him, he stood frozen on the spot. Evidently seeing her attention drawn to something the entire Weasley clan turned to look at Draco. He sneered at them before turning to board the train.

* * *

Unlike Draco, Hermione was looking forward to this day. She had crossed the barrier in front of Ron and immediately began to scan the platform for her missing friend. She was sad to see that he was nowhere to be found.

She turned to see Ron coming through the barrier, followed by his brothers. She set her bags down and marveled at the sight of the red steam engine. She had always welcomed the sight of the engine; to her it symbolized the beginning of the most wonderful journey she had ever set out on in her whole life. Ron pushed the cart carrying their trunks to the side of them and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She turned towards Ron's brothers who had just crossed the border to come and stand next to them. She stepped forward and gave them each a tight hug.

"Thank you for letting me into your home," she whispered as tears sprang to her eyes.

"Aww, Hermione," Bill said, his eyes more glassy than they had been a moment earlier.

She and Ron stood shoulder to shoulder in front of his brothers, their hands clasped tightly. As the Weasley men were talking about the upcoming year, Hermione suddenly had the sensation that she was being watched. She glanced around her and saw no one looking, and turned ever so slightly to look over her shoulder. Just behind her she saw Draco Malfoy.

He was standing there watching, more importantly he was staring at their hands. He had a disturbing expression on his face. It was half twisted in pain, but his eyes were filled with a deep longing. The Weasleys followed Hermione's gaze to Draco. Ron's hand clasped hers tighter; it seemed as if this minor movement had snapped him out of his reverie, he straightened and his face turned into his trademark sneer and made to board the train. Percy scoffed as Hermione turned back to face her companions. The boys all shared a chuckle at Draco's expense. Hermione stared at the ground; she couldn't get the image of Draco's pain out of her face.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she asked, finally raising her head.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, concern filling his face.

"Oh," she said with a forced laugh, "I'm fine, just thinking."

This seemed to satisfy Ron, he went back to talking with his brothers. Hermione's thoughts turned back to Draco, he had never passed the opportunity to be rude to her…and why had he seemed so sad?

"We should probably get going, don't you think Hermione?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Hermione hugged each of the boys again, tears spilling from her eyes. She told them how much she'd miss them while Ron hugged his brothers in return. She made Charlie promise to keep her updated on Ginny, much to Ron's surprise. With a final goodbye, they boarded the train and set out to find an empty compartment.

They were fortunate enough to find one. Hermione sat opposite of Ron, her back resting against the window of the train. One of her legs was stretched out and resting on the seat, while the other was pulled up close to her chest. She let her head fall back against the window with a sigh. Ron pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket began to shuffle them. Hermione's mind drifted from her boyfriend and on to her worst enemy.

She recalled earlier when she had seen him in Diagon Alley. He had limped through the walkways and seemed to wince with every step. He was thinner; his hair had lost its usual sheen. Then, at the train station he had so much longing in his eyes. Hermione's immediate thought was to look straight at his forearm for any sign he had taken The Mark. Ron and Harry had often thought that it was only a matter of time before Draco took The Mark, given the fact that Lucius was perhaps one of the more famous of Voldemort's followers.

Hermione was brought back to Earth when Ron's cards exploded. He had apparently been trying to build a house of cards. Ashes and bits of card were covering Ron; Hermione couldn't help but explode in laughter at the sight of him. After a moment he joined in, brushing the bits of ash and card off of him. Hermione looked toward the door to the compartment and saw a figure move away suddenly. Her laughter slowed as she tried to figure out if someone had been watching them.

* * *

Someone had been watching them: Draco Malfoy. He didn't realize had chosen the compartment right next to Weasel and Mudblood Granger. He had actually been asleep until the bang of the exploding cards had startled him. The intrusive noise was followed by loud, raucous laughter. Rubbing his eyes, Draco had risen to see who could possibly be laughing at a time like this. With the Dark Lord slowly rising, attendance down at Hogwarts and the ever-present fear of death at the hands of the Dark Lord…he wondered how anyone could be laughing. Yet, here was Potter's friends Weasel and Mudblood Granger living it up. Draco figured that they were, at this point, probably more wanted than Potter. After all, the Dark Lord was not a merciful foe; he longed to make his victims suffer as long as possible. What better way to do that then to kill off your only friends in the world?

Draco stepped out of his compartment to peek inside theirs. He watched them for a moment, unable to take his eyes off of Hermione. It had been a really long time since he had seen her smile, he realized. Of course, he knew about her parents and he had to admit that even though he loathed her, it was still an unnecessarily cruel act to mail her the heads of her parents. He caught himself staring at her, studying her when she suddenly looked in his direction. He was fearful she would see him and he moved back to his compartment quickly.

Back inside he sat down, thankful to be alone. He wasn't sure where his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle were. Draco heard that Crabbe had taken The Mark over the summer, while Goyle was still undecided. He half wondered if they were on orders to not socialize with Draco given his lack of desire to be a Death Eater. Draco found himself not caring as much as he probably should.

Draco was awake now, try as he might he was unable to go back to sleep. Instead he reached into his bag and pulled out three worn pieces of parchment. They all had several words written on them, crossed out and rewritten, crossed out and rewritten. Draco poured over the pieces of parchment, deciding not to attempt to try the magic while he was exposed on the train.

* * *

Hermione stood at a window, staring out through a dirty pane of glass. She was staring at something…a hill adorned with four crosses. She was playing with a necklace around her neck, tears streaming down her face.

A man came up behind her; she turned to look at him. It was Draco Malfoy. Hermione ran into his arms, which he wrapped around her form. He stroked her hair and whispered sweet things into her ear. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. They were starting to lean forward, slowly, their lips brushed lightly. Hermione felt as though lightening was coursing through her body.

Just then, someone burst through the door, brandishing a wand. Hermione recognized it at Lucius, Draco's father. She screamed as he pushed her aside, pulling his own wand out.

"No!" she cried as a bolt of green light shot out of his wand.

Hermione awoke from her dream with a start; the worried face of her boyfriend greeted her.

"Are you okay?" asked Ron, his hand brushing her hip.

"I'm fine," she said softly.

That wasn't entirely true; Hermione was shaking slightly and was just barely aware of the cold sweat that had accumulated on her forehead. Why was she kissing Draco Malfoy in her dream? Whose graves had she been staring at? Her mind swam with possibilities.

For the rest of the trip, Hermione kept her gaze locked on the scenery outside the window. She didn't want to talk to Ron, because she knew he would ask her what she dreamt, and Hermione wasn't sure she could lie to him. He would be crushed and angry if he found out she had dreamt of kissing Draco Malfoy.

Hermione normally didn't dream, she had nightmares. She could tell you what her nightmares were about, they were the images of her dead parents and images of Voldemort, dark and evil, he had haunted her dreams since she first saw the dark mark. She had read what he looked like, and she could imagine it so vividly in her head . . . what if must have been like, to die at the hands of that awful man. At the thought of this, before she could stop them, she felt tears prickling her eyes. She exhaled sharply and attempted to blink them back, but only succeeded in making them trickle down her cheeks. Wiping them quickly, so that Ron wouldn't see, she turned her head closer to the window.

The train began to slow down, signaling the arrival to Hogwarts. Hermione reached into her bag and deftly pulled out her Head Girl badge and pinned it to her robes. She walked out of the compartment, Ron at her heels. Jogging to a carriage, she glanced up, she had been able to see the thestrals for years; but still, every time she saw them was a reminder of who she had lost. Memories flashed through her head, seeing her parent's wide open eyes as she opened the heavy box the Dark Lord had sent the heads in. She could see Sirius, falling back into the veil. The body of Cedric Diggory as Harry clung to it, weeping. She felt her throat constricting and her heart beating faster. She could tell by the solemn nature of the students around her that more people could see the thestrals than ever before.

She and Ron managed to catch up with their friends Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. They were sitting inside a carriage waiting for them.

"Where's Harry?" Neville asked, glancing around for him.

"Dumbledore took him early; he's been hiding all summer"

Hermione was grateful that Ron was able to talk to their friends. She still felt odd after her dream and still sad after all of her memories came spilling forward at the sight of the thestrals. Ron seemed to sense her resistance to socialization; he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him, even answering every question that Neville and Luna threw their way. She glanced up towards the castle, hoping to see Harry.

* * *

Draco felt the train slowing to a stop; he quickly stood up, making way towards the school. He clambered up into a carriage, alone and ignoring the world. He felt it start to move, his eyes remained glued to the seat in front of him. As his carriage reached the entrance of the castle, he jumped out of it. He walked briskly to the Great Hall and sat down. His mask set firmly in place, he looked around the Hall; there was not as many shining face as there usually were. Too many orphans here this year, the few that were smiling, were doing it because they were uncomfortable with the situation that was present. Draco put a smirk on his mask, just for show; he had to make sure that no one knew anything was different about him.

As everyone piled in, he caught glimpses of the wonder trio. He stared at them, watching as Potty led the way, Weasel and the Mudblood following behind stupidly. His eyes drifted over her body, he noted the Head Girl badge on her robes. He felt the corners of his cheeks twitch as he looked down to see his own Head Boy badge. He reminded himself that he had revenge to plan this year, that he couldn't let her get away with hitting him. As they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Weasel put his arm around her. Draco felt a stab in the pit of his stomach. He sighed, and reminded himself that he was jealous of their companionship. He was lonely, and as a human he longed for another human to touch and communicate with. It was perfectly natural.

The first years were ushered in; Draco was surprised to see only ten of them. There were more parents, than he initially thought, that had decided to keep their children out of Hogwarts. Apparently, sacrificing their child's education was a price worth paying for safety. The Sorting Hat was brought out and it began its song. Draco tuned it out as he did every year, it was a stupid enchanted hat, what wisdom could it possibly provide?

In the end, three students came to Slytherin, another three to Gryffindor and two each to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He didn't look at the first years who came to the Slytherin table, not really caring. He drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for the feast to begin. He still couldn't take his eyes off the Dream Team.

* * *

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Hermione heard a familiar voice shout above all the commotion:

"Oi! Ron, Hermione…over here!"

Hermione followed the sound of the voice to find Harry. She cried his name and threw harm arms around his neck. She let go of him as Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

"Cor, Mate. It's good to see you," Ron said.

"What did you do for the rest of the summer?"

"Dumbledore took me around, taught me about Voldemort," at Hermione's inclined head he added, "you know, who he is…where he came from, that sort of thing…we'll talk more later, when we won't be overheard."

They nodded as they turned and walked into the hall. Harry led them to a table, Ron and Hermione sat next to each other as Ron put his arm around her shoulders. Harry raised his eyebrows slightly as Hermione blushed.

"So, you two?"

Ron grinned and nodded while Hermione was still looking at the floor, blushing.

When she was finally able to look up, she glanced around the table for her classmates. She was pleased to see Lavender, Seamus and Dean…but she didn't see Parvati. A quick glance to the Ravenclaw table confirmed that Padma was gone as well. She glanced at Harry who was scanning the hall as well; as he frowned Hermione knew he was as disappointed as she was.

A cold shiver ran down her spine as she saw only ten first years. She clapped and cheered with the rest of her able as the new Gryffindors ran to the table, two boys and a girl. The girl looked small, fragile and scared . . . had she looked like that when she first arrived here? Sighing to herself, she focused her gaze on the two boys. One was looking around the hall in wonder, as though he didn't believe the magic that was surrounding him . . . obviously a muggle born. Her heart went out to the boy, because she was sure she had reacted the same way to the great castle. He would have a harder time these days, and if the war against Voldemort was lost…this boy wouldn't have a single chance of making it. The other boy looked much more confident, as though he knew a bit about Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stood up to speak, and Hermione focused all of her attention on the great man before her. He looked as though he had aged about twenty years since she last saw him. His skin was paler, and the wrinkles all the more evident, he looked tired, and worn.

"Welcome to Hogwarts first years, welcome back to the other students and staff" he began, his voice thick with sadness, age, frustration and tiredness. "I thank all of you who are brave enough to come back to school after the events of the summer. Once again you had to choose between what is right, and what is easy. It is easy to hide; it is easy to give in to the dark side. It is not easy to make a stand based on what you believe in. Yes, there is evil in this world…but we will rise above it.

"I ask of all of you now, set aside past differences. Set aside the petty squabbles of earlier years, only when we are united together can we meet our common goal. Now, let the feast begin!"

As he finished speaking, Hermione was surprised to see him staring right at her. As if the comment had been directed towards her. Her cheeks burned hot, until she saw him turn his head, and it became evident to her that he was looking all over the hall. That thought made her feel better; she could not believe how much Dumbledore had aged over the summer. He looked almost like a withered branch of a very old tree.

After the feast had finished and the first years were being led out of the Great Hall by the prefects, Hermione walked over to the staff table, waiting for Dumbledore to give her the password to her new quarters.

"Your new quarters are located on the fifth floor; the entrance is the painting of the four founders. The password is 'Phoenix Feather'" Dumbledore said to them softly.

Hermione nodded and gave the man a sad smile. She turned on her heel and walked quickly to the second floor, fully aware that Malfoy was walking just as quickly on the other side of the hall.

She stole a glance at him, his face showed no feelings, as if he didn't have a soul. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the thought. They reached the portrait of the founders, and Malfoy muttered the password before Hermione could open her mouth. The portrait door opened, and Malfoy barged inside, completely aware that he was cutting off Hermione. Glaring at him behind his back, Hermione walked through the door.

She glanced around the room and noted that she and Malfoy would share their own private common room and bathroom, and each would have, of course, their own bedroom. Hermione looked around the room and saw Malfoy doing the same. They both seemed to be unsure of what to do next. So Hermione decided to take it upon herself to go and find her boyfriend.

Without a word to Malfoy she stepped back through the portrait door and headed up to the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Draco felt blood rushing to his cheeks as he realized Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes were upon him. His long-desired hope of being able to remain invisible to the Headmaster was being crushed. 'Set aside differences', Draco had absolutely no intention of even being involved in a fight with Potty this year. He wanted to blend in to the shadows until he could get out.

Mudblood Granger had beaten him to the head table to find out the password to their quarters, but she would not beat him to the door. He knew he was being childish as he said the password and barged into the common room. He simply didn't care.

The common room he would be sharing was huge. There were two desks, several bookcases and two couches in front of a roaring fireplace. He noted almost immediately that the room was decorated in gold and silver, and realized it was to reflect their two houses, no doubt united together. He was really unsure of what he should do next. If it had been the previous year he would have no doubt been recounting the false details of his spectacular summer. This year, he was truly alone.

He heard the door slam behind him and he whirled around to see that his female companion had left. He sneered after her, thinking that slamming the door was a little melodramatic. Despite his nap on the train, Draco couldn't deny that he was still tired. He walked into his room and collapsed on his bed-still dressed-and fell asleep.

He awoke several hours later, all too aware of the pain in his lower back. He stood, and charmed his appearance to look refreshed, instead of groggy like he had looked. Walking out in to the common room of his quarters, he did not see the mudblood out here, and he was thankful for that he didn't want to be near her. He had no idea what time it was, nor did he actually care. He decided to take the opportunity to explore his room a little. He noted on the wall next to his bedroom there was a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, as he approached it the portrait sprang to life.

"New Password?"

Draco stared at the portrait before stammering out the first word that came to his mind, "Amaranth"

The portrait nodded and swung open. Draco stuck his head out and peeked through the door. It was the Slytherin common room. So he had a direct entrance to his common room. The dungeons were still very dark, so he figured it must still be in the middle of the night. Closing the door he looked over toward Mudblood Granger's side of the room. There was a portrait of Godric Gryffindor; he figured that she must have a direct door to the common room as well. He smirked to himself as he realized she had walked all the way around the castle.

Draco took advantage of this time and peeked at the bookcases in the rooms, pausing every so often when a title would catch his eye. He noted a few of the books he would be remotely interested in reading and sat down at one of the two large mahogany desks. He summoned his homework over to him, and pulled out a bottle of red ink, and a sharp quill. Unconsciously, he was doing the very same thing Hermione had done the last time he had seen her, in Diagon Alley.

Draco worked all through the night, correcting his homework. He was only vaguely aware that it was morning because the mudblood had come out of her room. She paused in her footsteps, stared hard at Draco for a minute before sitting on one of the couches in front of the fire. She had apparently refused to work at the desk in the room, seeing as it was directly in front of his. She had her own homework out in front of her and was furiously scribbling away at it.

His concentration had dwindled and the growl of hunger from the pit of his stomach told him what to do next. He stepped out of the portrait door and into the cold hallway, the footsteps his shoes made echoed throughout the stone corridor. He continued his trek down to the Great Hall, where breakfast was being served.

He sat at the Slytherin table and gazed out at the hall before him; students were busy chatting about their timetables and what they had done over the summer break; only one student stood out to him, the one who wasn't busy idling chatting away, Mudblood Granger. He wondered how she had managed to get to the Hall before him, when he left her she was still seated on the couch by the fire. She had her nose stuck in a book, as usual. It was strange; she looked odd with Weasley's arm hanging around her.

Shaking his head, Draco picked up his fork and began to eat. He was not looking forward to his classes.

* * *

Hermione had stayed in the Gryffindor common room much later than she had anticipated. She counted herself lucky that as Head Girl she was allowed to be in the halls after dark. When she entered the shared common room she was glad to find it empty. Tip-toeing to her bedroom, she laid down on her bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

When Hermione woke in the morning, she found that every single muscle in her body was screaming with stiff agony. She stumbled out of bed, put on her robes and ran a comb through her hair; the comb however only succeeded in making her hair even frizzier. She walked out to the living area in her dorm and paused, seeing Draco working. She was somewhat surprised to see him doing something so normal as working on homework. She wasn't sure why, but she had always pictured his free time spent plotting nefarious deeds.

She suddenly felt awkward standing there. She needed to work on her homework, but she didn't feel comfortable sitting at the desk so close to him. Instead she opted for the couch by the fire. She could hear Draco's stomach growling from across the room. She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him get up. When he left, she breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't deny the fact that she just didn't feel comfortable being in such close quarters to her biggest enemy. Her stomach growled, and she decided she should have some breakfast as well. As she exited the portrait door she realized just how far from the Great Hall she was. Luckily she recalled Harry's obsession with secret passageways. She recalled one that bypassed at least half of the walking required to make it to the ground floor of the castle.

Once she was inside the Great Hall, she smiled as she saw Ron waiting for her. She sat next to him and hugged him. He kissed her cheek softly and draped his arm around her.

"I got you something," he said with a bright smile.

Hermione gave him a puzzled look as he pushed a book over towards her. She gasped as she saw the cover; it was _Hogwarts: a History Revisited_. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She immediately opened the book and buried her nose in it. She was pleased to discover that in this newly revised version of what was probably her favorite book, they had had the grace to finally mention the House Elves. Though she had abandoned S.P.E.W. due to her heavy workload, her beliefs had not changed. Hermione was so engrossed in her book she suddenly realized that Ron and Harry were trying to talk to her. She closed her book and tore her eyes from the book, determined to listen.

"So how was it?" Harry asked a cheeky grin on his face.

"How was what?"

"Sharing a common room with Malfoy."

Ron stopped eating at this and looked over at Hermione, his eyes wide. Hermione glanced between her two friends.

"It was, er…all right. I mean, I came to see you guys right after I got there. When I came back, the he had gone to bed. We haven't actually spoken yet."

This seemed to satisfy Harry, he went back to eating his breakfast. Ron, however, glanced between the Slytherin table and Hermione, color rising to his ears. He didn't say anything to her, but Hermione had the distinct impression he was not happy with the situation. After a minute or so, his attention turned back to Harry and their previous conversations.

Hermione's mind kept drifting back to her book and what she had just read. When the boys' discussion turned to Quidditch, Hermione took it upon herself to kiss Ron goodbye, wave to Harry and set out for her first class. She knew that they would say no more that interested her, and that they would have no real need for her conversational input. The boys would have a free period while she took Arithmancy, but they would meet up after for Transfiguration.

As she rounded the corner just outside of her Arithmancy class she stumbled across the most peculiar thing: Draco Malfoy sitting alone with his head cradled in his hands. He was seated there as if he was Atlas himself, holding the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. She stood and watched him for a moment as he lifted his head up towards the sky. She saw a look on his face, filled with such agony that she couldn't help but gasp. The gasp roused Draco and his head whipped around to see Hermione staring at him. To her horror she realized he had tears streaming down his cheeks. She could feel a flush creeping up on her cheeks, embarrassed that she had caught him at such a private moment. She hurried down the hallway, afraid of what she had seen and what he would do to her.

* * *

A/N: I'm generally not an Author's Note kind of person, so I'll make this short. I just want to say to anyone who is reading this solely because it is a Draco/Hermione story that yes, it is a Draco/Hermione story…and yes I know she is currently with Ron and seems very much in love. I promised myself I would write a convincing story, and I refuse to believe that if D/Hr is in canon that they wouldn't suddenly fall in love at the near sight of each other after six years of hatred. This is not a Michael Bay fic…I will not give you 8 hours of plot in 3 seconds. So, if you've made it this far in reading, don't despair. It is slow moving, but that is the point.


	5. Dark Wings

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter Five

"Dark Wings"

After breakfast Draco found himself walking alone down one of Hogwarts many stone corridors. He had a free period until Transfiguration. He didn't feel rested from his sleep, he felt worse than ever. So he decided a stroll through Hogwarts might clear his mind and help him relax. His mind kept flashing to his conversation prior to arriving at Hogwarts with his Aunt Bellatrix. It certainly wasn't the first time Draco had ever been threatened and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Still, her threats had run clear in his mind and he had been worried ever since. Perhaps Draco had no choice but to go along with the plans of his Aunt and Voldemort…at least for the time being. He wondered briefly if there was anyone at Hogwarts he could speak to about Voldemort wishing him to spy. The only spy he knew to be in residence was his Head of House, Professor Snape.

Draco wasn't sure if he trusted Snape in his role as a spy. As Draco was one of those rare few who had his feet in both doors, he wasn't sure who Snape was truly loyal to. After all, Dumbledore believed Snape to be a double agent for him, while according to his mother, Voldemort believed him to be a triple agent, betraying Dumbledore. One could only wonder how he could keep so many lies straight. If Draco confided in Snape and he truly was faithful to Voldemort…then Draco would have made a grave mistake in admitting to the Dark Lord that he had doubts of his loyalty. This mistake would certainly cost Draco a lot, if not his life.

Draco sighed, stepping out of the corridor and into a small courtyard. He knew that he was near classrooms, but as he was – at this moment – thankfully alone he took an odd moment to sit and let the weight on his shoulders fall around him. He cradled his head in his hands, letting the despair fill his heart. At that moment, everything seemed hopeless. If he completed his task for the Death Eaters, it meant he was bound to them and part of their cause. If he refused, they would hunt him down and kill him and torture him for disloyalty.

He didn't understand why he had to be chosen for this task. There were certainly other Death Eaters in the school. There had to be someone else who had or could eventually be trained in occlumency. He shuddered and before he could help himself, he felt tears slipping out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He was moved to weeping because of the sheer frustration of the situation. He hated himself for crying, but he didn't wipe his tears away. He lifted his head to the sky in a silent prayer, hoping that what ever higher power happened to be watching over him could help him.

There was a gasp behind him and he whirled around to see one of the last people he could ever wish to see him show such deep emotion.

It was Hermione Granger.

All he could do was stand there in silence, his heart ablaze with embarrassment. She had the grace to blush he noticed, but she seemed to be more scared than he was. She turned on her heel and immediately headed father down the corridor and around the corner. He was frozen in horrified silence, unable even to wipe his tears away. He had the briefest horrifying thought that he had been thinking freely…what if Granger had learned occlumency as well? She was no doubt on her way to tell Dumbledore everything and…. He shook his head in an attempt to quiet his manic thoughts. He wiped his tears from his eyes and forced himself to be calm. As calm as he was acting he couldn't still his shaking hands, trembling from anxiety. He strode around the corner that Granger had disappeared behind. All he could see were classrooms. One in particular had the warm glow of a room occupied with people. He tried to walk by it and casually peer in, but found no success. Instead, he gave up all pretenses and stared openly inside the room. In the first row he could see her, Hermione, she was biting her lip and her cheeks were still flushed. She was bouncing her foot roughly. Draco found some satisfaction in the fact that she had not immediately ran and grabbed Dumbledore. He also could not deny that he felt intense satisfaction at her discomfort, he was glad that the feeling was mutual.

Typically he would be satisfied to avoid her for the rest of the week, at least. However he knew, given that they had classes together and shared a common room…he would be 'blessed' with her company against his will. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He willed himself to calm down. So what if she had seen him acting…he could not bring himself to say it…differently than he often chose to. As far as he was concerned there was absolutely nothing different between them. He would continue to ignore her as he had the previous night.

* * *

Hermione could not concentrate in class. She couldn't stop her foot from bouncing up and down wildly. Despite Arithmancy being her favorite subject, she was unable to take notes, unable to focus on anything around her but what she had seen. Malfoy's tearful display of emotion almost haunted her. Professor Vector was sure to have noticed, Hermione had thought to herself, as every time the Professor's eyes would gaze at the classroom they would linger on Hermione while her face morphed into a look of disappointment.

When class was finally over, she grabbed her books and threw them together. She lingered at the door for a moment peering out of it to make sure the coast was clear. She realized with a sudden sense of horror that she would have to at least be in the same room as Malfoy when they had Transfiguration together next period. She steeled herself as she headed toward her next class.

She walked into the classroom slowly, keep her eyes downcast and gripping her bag tighter to her shoulder. Finally getting up the courage, her eyes swept around the room to see that Malfoy had not arrived yet, and she realized neither had any of her friends. She sighed and rolled her eyes at them, they were going to be late, she just knew it. She sat down in her usual seat and pulled out her books. She looked up at footsteps entering the classroom and was relieved to see that it was not Malfoy. She put her head down and wrote out a heading for her parchment of notes. She looked up in time to see Harry and Ron coming in, huffing and puffing. She gave them a curious look. Ron grinned and Harry looked annoyed.

Ron leaned down and captured her lips with his quickly before sitting next to her.

"That will be quite enough of that, Mr. Weasley," said a familiar stern voice.

He whirled around to see McGonagall stalking towards him, he flushed scarlet and busied himself with pulling his books out. Hermione beamed up at her favorite Professor who returned the smile briefly. Just as McGonagall was about to close the door to start class, Draco came sliding in. He cleared his throat and tried to play it off.

"You're on thin ice, Mr. Malfoy."

She gave him a stern look, but didn't take House Points for which he was grateful. He took his seat in the back, as he walked by she could feel his eyes boring into her skull, she chose not to look at him. McGonagall directed all of them to front of the classroom and began her lesson. Hermione made it a point to not turn around her to look at Malfoy…despite desperately wanting to. Instead she focused herself on taking notes, so focused in fact that she missed Ron's desperate whispers for help. She finally turned to look at him and her heart melted when she saw his look of despair. She smiled softly at him and placed her hand on his thigh under the table, giving it a firm squeeze.

* * *

After classes were over for the day Draco retired to the Head Student common room. He threw his books up on the desk he had claimed with an audible huff. He went about making himself a cup of tea. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mudblood Granger emerging from her room. She looked over to Draco briefly before glancing away quickly. He smirked as he saw her cheeks flushing pink. He cleared his throat to stop the urge to laugh. He glanced at her again, her cheeks were now a bright scarlet. Draco couldn't help but be pleased at her embarrassment. He was glad the uncomfortable feeling was mutual. He sat down at his desk with a cup of tea; he was surprised when she took the desk opposite of him. She didn't look up at him, but busied herself in her schoolwork.

A moment later there was a knock on the portrait door. Draco set his tea down and went to the door. He opened it just slightly to see who was there. He was half surprised and half grateful to see Professor Snape. He opened the door further and the Professor walked inside. He carried in his arms a small bundle.

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe this is yours," Snape drawled.

Draco flashed him a genuine smile and accepted the bundle from Snape's arms. Draco had nearly forgotten that he had left his familiar with Professor Snape over the summer. He knew that he couldn't bring his cat home to the Malfoy Manor, his father disapproved of animals. More importantly, he knew the cat would be better taken care of with Snape and that he would remain alive until the start of school. Snape swept out of the room without as much as a glance in Hermione's direction. She scoffed under her breath at his rudeness, and pretended to go back to work. In truth she was watching Draco, immensely curious as to what the bundle in his arms was. Draco unwrapped the bundle gently and Hermione gasped when she saw a large grey cat spring forth. The cat jumped to the floor and rubbed its body against Draco's legs, purring all the while.

"You have a cat?" Hermione called.

He had forgotten she was there and visibly jumped when she spoke.

"Yes,' he replied shortly, trying to convey to her that the conversation was over.

"That's a Russian Blue, correct?"

"Yes, her name is Artemis."

Draco picked the cat up in his arms and held her close to him. The cat purred loudly in Draco's arms and he carried her into his room. He realized a moment later he had left his work unattended…most importantly his charm work. He tore back into the common room quickly but found Hermione sitting in the same manner she had been in before. He picked up his parchment and books and headed for his room. As he walked away a slip of parchment fell from the jumble in his arms. He didn't seem to notice as he walked into his room. He closed the door behind him.

Hermione looked down at the parchment he had dropped, curiosity getting the better of her. She crept towards it, worried that he could hear her footsteps. She picked up the paper and studied it closely. She tilted her head as she tried to make out his scribbles.

_**Unplottable? Not enough. Stronger. Oblivate the keeper? No no, still at risk. **_

_**Solo-cast the charm? Unbreakable vow…**_

The rest was completely illegible. She glanced curiously towards his door before putting the parchment back on his desk. She hadn't the foggiest clue what he was working on. Unplottable implied to maps…Keeper…could be all sorts of things, like Quidditch. Solo-cast a charm? Most charms were cast alone, save for the extremely complicated ones. Obliviate had to do with people's memories. She shook her head and tried to push Draco's nonsensical writings from her mind. She closed her textbook with a snap and replaced it on her bookshelf. She retired to her room and smiled when she saw Crookshanks sitting on her bed, asleep. She had been surprised to discover that not only did Malfoy have a familiar…but a cat. She had always counted on Draco being unable to have that kind of connection with another living soul…and she was also surprised it had not been with something slimy or slithering. Due to her connection with Crookshanks, a cat of above-average intelligence, Hermione could not help but regard all cats as distinctly skilled judges of character and intelligence. Perhaps Draco's cat had misjudged him? Her brown eyes drifted to Crookshanks…and she wondered what he would think of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione changed for bed and picked up Crookshanks, holding him to her chest. She climbed into bed and lay back against her headboard. The cat purred at her and adjusted itself until he was resting comfortably in her arms. Hermione glanced toward her door, trying to picture Malfoy doing the same thing she was doing…somehow, she just couldn't. The thought of him with a fluffy cat just seemed preposterous. Sighing she closed her eyes and felt herself drifting slowly off to sleep.

* * *

"_Here is the blood traitor, Master."_

_Draco was being dragged forward by a cloaked and masked Death Eater. There was another man, standing directly in front of a roaring fireplace. His hood was on and hanging much lower on his face, the hood seemed thicker than his captor's and the shadow cast by it covered his entire face. _

_A low sinister chuckle sounded from the hooded man, "good work, Lucius,"_

_Draco turned to confirm the identity of the man gripping his arm tightly. It was his father. Draco's eyes widened as his father smirked down at his son. His father looked thinner and paler, as though he had just been under great stress. The normally dead grey eyes of his father were burning bright with fire. Draco could not recall a time his father's eyes had burned like that. It made Draco's blood run cold. His father's grip tightened, the soft flesh on his arm screamed with pain. In front of him, he could see a girl being pulled in front of him. She was struggling against her captors. She looked fairly non-descript to him with very pale skin and platinum blonde hair…she could almost be a relative of his. Draco studied her face closely. She had the same sort of pointed face that ran in the Malfoy line and yet it was too dark to make out any distinctive features. Her ragged hair cast a dark shadow over her face; he couldn't even see what color her eyes were. Something about her made Draco's heart beat faster. His instincts were screaming at him to protect her, to love her and keep her safe. His heart ached at seeing her on the floor. She was barely clothed and very dirty. She cried out when she was kicked by another cloaked, feminine figure. As she kicked the girl again her hood fell away it didn't surprise Draco any to see his Aunt's heavy-lidded, maniacal face._

"_Stop it!" cried Draco, "don't hurt her!"_

"_Aww, ickle blood traitor wants to save the-" _

_The cloaked woman was interrupted by a sinister hiss. Draco felt a cold chill go up his spine and he turned…the man who had been so heavily cloaked had removed his hood. He stared down at Draco with horrifying red eyes. Draco felt his blood run cold, as Voldemort drew closer and closer to him. _

"_All you have to do to save her life Draco…is tell us what we want to know. We have no reason to spill magical blood further…just tell us what we want to know."_

_Draco was dumbstruck, as if struck with a tongue-tying curse. Though he desperately wanted to speak, say anything to get himself – and the girl – out of there…but still found no words. The Dark Lord raised his wand to the girl._

"_Crucio!"_

_She screamed, her voice sounded foreign and choked. Draco struggled further against his father who laughed heartily. _

"_Crucio!" the Dark Lord cried again. _

_Draco yelled, begging Voldemort to stop. He couldn't stand the girl's screams again. _

"_CRUCIO!" the Dark lord cried. _

_The girl fell to the floor, still writhing from the aftershocks of the curse…but Draco noted she did not scream. Bellatrix laughed wildly and kicked the corpse over. Draco stared down in mute horror at the girl's eyes…they were bloodshot and completely devoid of any life. Saliva dripped from the girl's still open mouth, Draco realized as his stomach panged with nausea. Her face was frozen in a scream; the fire now cast a light over her face that Draco wished would fade away. Her face burned in his mind._

A cry echoed through the bedroom of the Hogwarts Head Boy. He awoke with a start, sweat dripping down his pointed face. He couldn't stop his body from shaking; he couldn't put the girl's face out of his mind. Who was she? He drew his knees to his chest and hugged himself. He felt a hand slide across his back as the figure sleeping next to him also woke. He felt a sudden warm comfort as an arm wrapped around him. It had been so long since he had felt the loving touch of another human. He turned his head to smile at his companion.

"Draco…" came the singsong voice, "save me, Draco."

Draco screamed when he saw the blonde girl lying in bed next to him.

* * *

"Aaagh!"

Hermione awoke with a start, already reaching for her wand. She threw her bedcovers off of herself and clambered to her feet, ignoring the stiff pains in her feet.

"Lumos," she whispered.

The tip of her wand shone with light. She located her favorite cotton robe and wrapped it over her pajamas. She pushed open the door to the common room and peeked in carefully. She could see no one. She heard another cry…it was coming from Malfoy's room. Hermione jogged over to his bedroom door and paused…hesitant on the proper course of action. She could go in, but what if it was a prank? What if he was screaming to get her to come running to humiliate and scare her as revenge for her hitting him? Her mind raced. What if he was actually in danger? What if the Dark Lord was in there right now, torturing him? Hermione willed her mind to calm down, certainly the Voldemort himself would not be in there…and wasn't Lucius Malfoy one of the top Death Eaters? Was he just having a nightmare? Hermione knew from experience with Harry that Voldemort sometimes invaded his mind during his sleep. Was Draco's mind being invaded by Voldemort? She thought it not likely. She was ready to turn around when she heard him scream again…this time louder and with more intense fright. Hearing that scream caused gooseflesh to break out on her arms. Before she was even aware of what she was doing she had pulled open his bedroom door. She thrust her wand arm in first, casting a blue glow throughout the room as she entered. Her free hand gripped her blue, cotton robe tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her scared, brown eyes swept the room trying to find that familiar, hated blonde head. It was his platinum blonde hair that gave him aware to her immediately; the light from her wand had hit it, causing it to be brightly illuminated in the dark room. She saw him, curled up against the wall, his knees drawn tightly against his chest. He didn't look up at Hermione; instead his gaze was planted firmly on his bed. His whole body screamed fear; it almost hurt Hermione to look at him. She didn't go to him, not letting herself trust him fully.

"Malfoy? Is everything all right? I heard screams."

Draco's head snapped up and he clambered to his feet. He approached her and gripped her arm tightly, but not hurting. Her eyes swept down to his hand and back up to his face, she studied it closely. He seemed to be making sure that she was real, that because he could touch her she was real. He seemed to realize what he was doing because he let go of her as if she were on fire. He took a step back, keeping his head down and not looking at the bed or at Hermione.

"Fine…just a bad dream. Yeah…that's all it was, just a dream."

Hermione wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more…her or himself. She stepped aside as he headed for the door. She took a step towards his bed and pointed her wand at the lamp beside his table. She whispered a quick word to light the lamp and examined his room closely. She found nothing as she looked under his bed or around the room. Her gaze lingered on his pillows, noting he had two, each one dented where a head had lain. She peered at the pillow on the left side of the bed and saw a long platinum blonde hair. It was the same color as Draco's but it was a much longer strand than he had on his head. She dropped it, but the gears in her mind had already started to turn. There was something strange about this entire situation, but she convinced herself the hair had to be Draco's. She wouldn't have thought anything further of it until she looked at the state of his covers. The were pulled to one side, as if Draco had been lying on the right side of his bed and pulled them to the left to uncover himself. They were perfectly undisturbed on the other side, as if no one had lain there at all. Hermione shook her head, ridding herself of the ridiculous notions building in her mind. 'So what?' she asked herself. She convinced herself that she was just looking for something to be wrong with the scene, he had had a nightmare…he even said it himself. She chided herself for letting paranoia into her head.

She pushed open the door and found Draco sitting on one of the couches in front of the fire, Artemis in his lap and a cup of tea on the table next to him. Hermione approached him carefully. He didn't look up at her or even acknowledge her existence as she sat next to him. He stroked Artemis' head softly and stared into the flames, his face totally neutral.

"Are you okay? Is there anything you need?" she asked him, her voice soft.

For the first time in her entire life, she felt a certain connection to Draco. For six years they had hated each other. She had wished him ill harm more times than she could ever remember and she was sure he had done and felt the same. Yet, Hermione couldn't deny her initial maternal instinct to comfort him. He seemed so human, so much less like her enemy and much more like an ally. She found it hard to believe that this was the same Draco Malfoy that had tormented her and her friends for the past six years, this Draco seemed so much smaller, less poisonous and truly afraid of the world. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him to bring about this change…perhaps she had been wrong about him all along. If he had nightmares as well, then perhaps they could learn to look past their differences. She wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him…but she held herself back, because the bigger part of her…the logical part told her to.

A moment after Hermione asked him the question he had been dreading, he lifted his gaze from the flames. From her angle on the couch she missed his watery grey eyes sweep towards his bedroom door and back to the fire.

"Why would I ever need anything from a Mudblood?" he said his voice cold and robotic, devoid of any emotion.

Hermione gasped. Her face instantly flushed and she felt her heart pang sharply with intense hurt. Immediately she felt hurt at his insult; it was the hurt and humiliation which caused her greater distress. She had run into his room with her wand blazing thinking that was in true danger. She had been willing to endanger her life by rushing into his room. She felt shame that she had even cared about him. She felt like a fool for thinking he had changed at all. He was exactly the same Malfoy she had known for the past six years, nothing had changed. She felt tears spring to her eyes. She slammed her lids shut, refusing to let them fall. She stood stiffly, turned on her heel and walked back to her room.

As she opened her door she whispered over her shoulder, just loud enough for him to hear:

"I pity you, Draco Malfoy."


	6. Remember Me

* * *

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

Chapter Six

"Remember Me"

Draco didn't sleep a single minute that night. He went back into his room only after the sun had risen. He spent the entire night on the couch in the common area, holding Artemis and trying to wrap his mind around the meaning of the dream. Was it just a dream? Draco didn't think so; he knew the Dark Lord had the power to invade the dreams of others. The Dark Lord most likely knew that Draco was having doubts about completing his task. Draco just had a feeling in his bones that the dream was a warning from Voldemort. However, the thing most important to him was the identity of the girl. He could remember his Aunt calling him a blood traitor – he fought the urge to scoff – and she had been interrupted from calling the girl something. Was it also 'blood traitor'? Was she a mudblood? Draco could hardly imagine himself feeling such strong feelings towards a mudblood. More importantly, if she was a mudblood why did she look just like a Malfoy? He contemplated his options for finding out the girl's identity. He could write to his mother, ask her if there was another relative of the Malfoy's closer to Draco's age than his cousin Nymphadora. He scoffed, even if he wrote his mother that was no guarantee the she would know about the girl.

When the first rays of the morning sun hit his room, he picked up the sleeping cat on his lap. The cat mewled with protest to being moved. Draco stepped back into his bedroom and placed the cat on his bed. He rubbed sore back and shoulders as he stared down at the pillow he had seen the dead girl lying on earlier. He got dressed and stepped out of his door in time to see Hermione emerging from hers. She cast Draco a look filled with so much pity he felt his blood run cold. He wanted anger, wanted her to hate him again…he didn't want her to feel sorry for him.

His mind ran back to the night's events. She had come into his room when he screamed. She had come to make sure that he was okay. She had even taken a look around inside his bedroom for the cause of his fear, though he knew she would find none. When she joined him on the couch she had sat so close to him, much closer than anyone had come to him in a long time. She was worried about him. He could tell that she longed to comfort him, put her arms around him but something stopped her. She asked him what he hoped she wouldn't: _'Are you okay?'_ he shut his eyes against the memory. Of course he wasn't okay; he was having visions of dead girls in his bed. She wanted to know if she could do anything for him. A small, little, betraying part of his mind wanted to ask her to stay close…to comfort him and make him feel sane again. He knew though, deep down that contact with her was dangerous for the both of them. He knew he had to push her away, make sure she never cared about him ever again. So after careful consideration, he came up with the coldest response he possibly could: _'Why would I ever need anything from a Mudblood?'_

She didn't stay; she picked up her bag and whispered a word to the portrait of Godric Gryffindor…so she had discovered the passage. She disappeared through it without as much as a glance back towards him. Draco felt his blood boil. He was mad at her, his father, the world…and himself. He picked up a book off the shelf and chucked it at the wall. Collapsing on his desk chair he held his head in his hands and forced himself to calm down.

He went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he walked through the corridors he ignored the glances he got from other students. He kept his grey eyes aloft and forward. He could hear whispers about him echoing off the stone walls and floor; people wondered why he seemed so much more cold and distant. He knew that people would have noticed his distinct lack of bullying this year, but he no longer felt the need to keep up the pretense of being the King of Slytherin, apathy had seen to that.

He entered the hall and was, for once, grateful of the floor plan of the hall. In his path to get to the Slytherin table he didn't have to walk anywhere near the Gryffindor table. He sat at the edge and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. It was sickeningly sweet, but he was thirsty and didn't care. He tried to stop himself from glancing at the Gryffindor table. He was sure that _she_ would be telling Potter and Weasley about the night's events. Would she say that he was screaming in his sleep and that he must be a complete nutter? He knew that if she would tell him anything it would be how he had insulted her and acted like a complete prat. Though he regretted her pity, he didn't regret pushing her away. He wasn't sorry for his behavior, it was a necessity. His life depended on being distant from everyone.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning with a headache. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. The memories of the previous night came rushing back to her as she saw her blue, cotton bathrobe was not in its usual place. She sighed and shook her head. She felt angry, humiliated and hurt. She dressed and bathed in record time. She opened the door to the common room, hoping against hope that Malfoy was in his room. Her hopes were dashed when she saw him emerging from his room at the same time as her. He looked like hell. His eyes had huge, dark circles under them. He looked scruffy and needed to shave. She cast him a pitying glance before heading out the portrait door into the Gryffindor common room.

She found the common room empty, so she sat by the fire to wait for Ron and Harry. She fell back asleep in front of the warm fire. When she woke again, Ron had pulled her into his lap and was holding her tightly. She sighed happily and snuggled into his warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head. She tilted her head to look back up at him and flashed him a smile.

"How did you sleep?" he asked her, kissing her forehead.

"Fine," she lied at first. She felt guilty immediately, "well…there was one incident with Malfoy."

Ron's grip tightened on her; "if he hurt you…" he started.

"What happened with Malfoy?" Hermione heard Harry's voice ask.

She turned her head to look at him; he was sitting in a chair gazing directly into the fire, just as Malfoy had done the previous evening. She realized that she had spent so much time being focused on Malfoy and Ron that she hadn't properly seen Harry since she started school. He too looked like he hadn't slept. His green eyes which used to be so bright seemed dimmer and darker. He glanced back at Hermione, but didn't smile.

"I heard him screaming last night."

Ron's grip loosened, "screaming?"

Hermione ignored Ron's question and continued, "I went into his room and found him on the floor. He had crawled all the way into the corner. He stared so frightfully at his bed…when I asked him what was wrong he said he had a bad dream. I looked around his room but found nothing. Nothing that can be explained anyway," she looked down at her hands.

This caught Harry's interest, "what do you mean?"

"You went into Malfoy's room?" Ron's grip on Hermione tightened ever so slightly. His ears had begun to flush scarlet.

Hermione sighed, "Just that…it looked like there was another person in his room, lying on top of his covers. I found a blonde hair, I mean…it could have belonged to him, but it was much longer than any hair he has," she paused, "I think he probably just laid on that side of his bed before going to sleep, that seems to be the most logical explanation."

Ron murmured his agreement with Hermione's theory, but Harry did not look convinced. He only nodded and went back to gazing at the fire. Harry knew too well about being terrorized in his sleep. His memories flashed back to his fifth year, in which he had been subject to recurring dreams of Voldemort. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Draco was having the same problem. What Ron and Hermione did not know, though Harry did, was that the Malfoys had fallen in favor with Voldemort…or rather, Lucius had fallen in favor. Bellatrix remained one of Voldemort's favorite followers. Hermione nudged Ron, hoping that he could get Harry to speak to them about his summer. They longed to know what Harry knew. Ron pursed his lips together before speaking:

"Harry…you did say you would tell us what Dumbledore taught you this summer, when we wouldn't be overheard."

Harry lifted his gaze from the fire again, to look around the room to ensure that they were alone. He shifted in the chair to better face them. His face had gone from thoughtful to one of grim excitement. Hermione sat up, but stayed close to Ron. She wanted to really focus on what Harry was saying, if he gave her some sort of valuable information that she could use to do some research…maybe she would be able to help him. She desperately wanted to be of use, to be distracted so her thoughts would not turn to Malfoy and his night terror. As Harry recounted Voldemort's tale, Hermione felt chills go up her spine. To think that such a dark, evil wizard had ever been a child. She had often regarded children as innocent creatures, completely incapable of doing evil deeds…but Voldemort had proven her theory wrong.

Hermione hated being wrong.

* * *

After Harry recounted the harrowing tale, the trio decided to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione sat next to Ron and across from Harry at the end of the Gryffindor table. She pushed her breakfast around on her plate rather than eat it. Her eyes glanced up to Harry who was once again staring straight ahead, his eyes not focused on anything but the floor. Hermione followed his gaze but found nothing particular or peculiar about the floor. She clenched her jaw and studied his face again; he was deeply troubled by something.

"Harry?" she asked him softly.

She seemed to break his trance. He looked over at her suddenly, "yes?"

"Nothing."

Her gaze fell to her plate again. Harry's face turned impassive again and Hermione glanced over towards Ron. He shared a worried look with her before lifting his eyes to Harry. They ate their meal in silence. Harry rose first; he pulled his bag on to his shoulder and muttered something about Dumbledore wishing to see him. As he hurried away Hermione cast a worried glance over at Ron, he looked just as worried as she felt. He took her hand in his and gripped it tightly.

"Ron, I'm..." she trailed off.

"I know, Hermione. I am too"

She leaned against him, her eyes burning with the desire to cry. He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head before rising to run after his best friend. Hermione watched her boyfriend go. She couldn't fight the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something dreadful was going to happen.

* * *

The next week passed by with out much further event. Draco and Hermione continued to avoid each other. Hermione refused to glance in his direction, which both pleased and troubled Draco. Hermione and Ron grew closer and closer. When Ron finally said 'I love you' to Hermione, she was able to return it to him without as much as a doubt. Harry continued to be distant, rushing off to meet with Dumbledore at odd times. Hermione and Ron tried to come up with ways to comfort Harry, but he wouldn't listen to them. Hermione was desperate for Harry to share something with them; she questioned him constantly which elicited angry responses from him. Their relationship seemed to be on thin ice, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder when Harry would just drop her for good.

Hermione was having a very tense breakfast with Harry and Ron when an owl flew in and dropped a letter at her place. Ron fed him a bit of toast off of his plate while Hermione broke the wax seal and flicked the letter open. Even Harry had lifted his gaze and stared at her with curiosity.

_**Hermione,**_

_**I hope your first week at Hogwarts is going well. I wanted to update you on Ginny's condition as you requested. **_

_**The day after you left Ginny fell into a completely catatonic state. She remained as such for several days before finally rousing. When she did come back, she repeated one word over and over again: 'Amaranth'. I know it's a flower with some relevance in mythology, but that's all I've been able to find. I'm worried it's a sign that her mind is gone for good. Her healer isn't giving us much hope, especially now. I'll let know if her condition improves.**_

_**Send Harry and Ron my love,**_

_**Charlie**_

Hermione scanned the letter once before reading it out loud to Harry and Ron. Hermione noticed as she read the part where Charlie comments about Ginny's mind going for good that he had his fist clenched on the table. His fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Hermione's heart pinged with sadness, she reached across the table and put her hand over his fist. He seemed taken back by her contact, he tensed briefly before relaxing. His fist turned into an open palm and he grasped Hermione's hand tightly. Tears welled up in his emerald eyes. Hermione continued to read, gripping Harry's hand.

'_Amaranth'_ she pondered to herself. She had heard the word used just recently, but where? She let go of Harry's hand slowly.

"I'm going to the library; I've got to find out more about this. This could be some way to help her."

"Hermione?"

She turned back to look at Harry, his eyes were glassy and he was sitting very tensely as if it took ever y single ounce of effort to keep from crying. Hermione's breath hitched in her chest at the sight of her troubled friend.

"Please," he started, struggling to keep his voice even, "find out some way to help Ginny."

Hermione nodded and flashed a sad smile at Ron, who linked distinctly grim about the news of his sister. Hermione tossed her bag over her shoulder and ran from the Great Hall as fast as she could. Her shoes clattered on the stone stairs as she flew up to the fourth floor. She ran into the library and immediately tried to guess where the best answer would be. Charlie said that he knew the Amaranth to be a flower…so Herbology might be a good avenue to start on. However, Charlie also said that the flower was found in mythology, so that could also be a good place to start. She headed for the Herbology section first, favoring academia as opposed to mythology.

* * *

In the quiet of the library Hermione poured over book after book. She had pulled up every reference to 'amaranth' she could find. Thus far the only concrete information she was able to find was that it was a flower, there were in fact about sixty different types of amaranth. Hermione pulled her parchment closer to her. She scribbled some notes of what she had learned thus far about the plant. She dipped her quill into her ink pot and began to write:

_**The Amarant**_

She paused before finishing the word. _'Amarant'_ she had seen that before, but where? She lifted her gaze and glanced around the library. As she gazed at each tome her mind went back to her father, and his love of books. The metaphorical light bulb went off over Hermione's head. Her eyes lit up brightly as she realized exactly where she had heard that word. It was in John Milton's Paradise Lost, one of her father's favorites. She picked up the library book and shoved it in her bag. She waved to Madam Pince and ran out of the library and back to her book case in the common room. She burst into the room and ran straight for her bookshelf. She picked up the battered tome and skimmed through the pages until she found the passage she was looking for:

'_**Immortal amarant, a flower which once**_

_**In paradise, fast by the tree of life,**_

_**Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence**_

_**To heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows,**_

_**And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life,**_

_**And where the river of bliss through midst of heaven**_

_**Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream:**_

_**With these that never fade the spirits elect**_

_**Bind their resplendent locks.'**_

Hermione almost squealed with delight. She copied the passage on to her parchment of notes and replaced the tome on the bookshelf. It wasn't much, but it was something, a starting point.

* * *

Three days later, after dinner, Draco and Hermione were both in their common room, working. Hermione sat at her desk, which she had pulled farther away from Draco's; she was reading through one of the books she had checked out of the library, desperately searching for anything to do with the amaranth. Draco was sitting at his desk, working on his school work…and on his charm. He was waving his wand; trying to cast an advanced version of the disillusionment charm on a mouse he had found roaming the corridors. Hermione had turned up her nose at the small mouse, but said nothing.

"Abscondo!" he said with a great flourish of his wand.

The little mouse did not move at all, nothing changed except his tail glowed white briefly. Draco grunted and clenched his jaw.

"Abscondo!" he cried louder with an ever greater flourish of his wand.

He was deep in agonizing thought until he heard Hermione sigh. He looked up towards Mudblood Granger. She had her head perched on the heels of her hands and she was glaring at him.

"If I have to hear you do that spell one more time, I swear I will hex you into next week, Malfoy."

He sneered at her, "Oh, I suppose you can do it better then?"

She closed her book with a snap. She stood and inclined her head with a haughty air. She raised her wand first at Malfoy who jumped back a little. She turned and pointed it at the mouse.

"Abscondo!" she cried, flicking her wand at the mouse.

Draco watched in amazement. First, he stared at Granger as she cast the spell. Magic seemed to flow all around her, her bushy hair – just wildly curly, not bushy he realized – seemed to ripple as though a breeze was surrounding her and only touching her. Her brown eyes seemed to glow, and he realized that they had flecks of gold in them. His watery grey eyes scanned her features, her look of determination. She had a small nose and pink rosebud lips. _'She's actually quite pretty like this,'_ Draco couldn't help but think to himself. He shook his head and chided himself, he was just grateful. Then, he heard the mouse squeak. His eyes flashed to it, and he saw the mouse slowly disappear into the wood grain of the desk. As he looked more closely he saw that he could see the mouse moving, but it had taken on a chameleon-like quality. As the mouse scampered across the desk it appeared to be colored like the wood grain, then like the parchment even his writing had appeared on the mouse. He flashed her an impressed smile.

"Well done, Granger."

She lowered her wand and nodded curtly at him.

"Thank you," she said softly, "you flourish your wand too much. It's much more of a flick really. Lots of people believe a greater flourish makes a greater spell. It's not always the case."

She demonstrated the movement for him again before walking back to her desk and her book. Draco was truly impressed with Granger. He couldn't help but wonder if he could get her to help him with his charm, she could probably figure out what his mistakes were in less time than he had been working on it all along. He of course, wouldn't tell her what it was for, that would defeat the entire point. He couldn't stop smirking for the rest of the night, though it, for once, was not a malicious smirk.

* * *

The next morning marked a significant change between the behavior of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. To Hermione, Malfoy had seemingly become less than a rude git. To Draco, Granger had become less of an insufferable busy-body. Hermione was wary, as she always was when things did not fit into the logical order. In her mind, it was simply not possible for Draco's behavior to change overnight. While yes, she too felt less pitying of Malfoy (though not by much) she still couldn't help but worry as the last time she had felt like he was more human, he had turned around and insulted her. Though she was muggle-born, she couldn't help but feel the pangs of hurt when she heard the word 'mudblood'. She likened it to being insulted based on skin color, also something that cannot be helped. She had tried not to let the word bother her, tried to ignore it…but it still felt ostracizing. Was there some form of taboo curse that could make a word hurt another person? She didn't know and Hermione hated not knowing things.

Draco had begun to see Granger in a whole new light. She was – he forced himself to say it – muggle-born, but, he couldn't deny her raw talent with magic. She was one of those rare exceptions to the blood type, he tried to convince himself. He wouldn't (and couldn't) face the possibility that he and his family and most of his House and most of the pure blood community at large, could be wrong. He was making small steps, and he figured that would be enough for now.

The two Head Students settled into a comfortable routine. After dinner they would sit at their respective desks and work. Both assumed the other was working on school work, when in actuality both were working heavily on their respective extra-curricular projects. Hermione had still been unable to find any magical reference to Amaranth and Draco's progress had been slow, but with Hermione's help he thought he might be able to cross the disillusionment charm with the fidelius charm. Perhaps he could create a charm where a person was completely invisible and could only reappear when the secret keeper divulged him, if Draco could be his own secret keeper would be all the better. He wasn't sure if it would work, but if he could get Granger to work on it – without telling her the reason, of course – he might have success. How could he get the ever curious witch to work on something without knowing its exact application? She was too smart to settle for a simple 'it's for class' answer…after all in Seventh year they had most of their classes together.

Draco sighed and Hermione's head popped up from her library book. She watched as he left his desk and went to sit by the fire. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why he never spent time in the Slytherin common room. She had not seen him with any of his friends so far this year. She felt bad enough being holed up in here instead of with Ron. But, she knew Ron understood…and knew that if spending less time with Hermione meant helping his sister out of her current state, he was gladly for it. Hermione had avoided Harry for days, the last time she had seen him he had questioned her so thoroughly about her progress that he had become almost violent. The old adage about no news being good news was not true in his case. No news, in this case, was just as bad, if not worse than bad news of the worst kind. Hermione wanted to give him some news, anything…but she was starting to feel as though Charlie was right. Maybe Ginny's mind had finally broken. With that sad thought Hermione closed her book and headed off to bed, where she slept fitfully and had the reoccurring nightmare of a bright red flower with the face of a child blooming brightly then withering away before her eyes.


End file.
